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“You stay in Vareveth after the heist is complete and use the dragons against Imirath in the upcoming war.”
But love shouldn’t cripple you; it should flourish with you.
“You’ll be coming on the heist with me?”
“Attached already?”
“You’ll make an excellen...
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“Don’t tie me up agai...
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“Yes, princess, I will be coming with you on the heist.”
“Elowen Atarah, queen of Aestilian and princess of Imirath. I, Cayden Veles, Commander of Vareveth, vow to protect you from harm from this day until my last.”
“Your enemies are my enemies. My sword is yours.”
“Cayden Veles, Commander of Vareveth. I, Elowen Atarah, queen of Aestilian and princess of Imirath, vow to fight beside you in the upcoming war as a true ally. My knives and dragon fire are yours,”
“A vow forged from convenience is the first kind to be broken when it becomes inconvenient.”
This is likely the first of many battles between our clashing personalities and priorities.
“Because I will personally punish those who defy my orders.”
“Feel free to stop speaking whenever you wish, considering I have no urge to answer any questions you ask.”
“Being in the thoughts of the lost princess is an honor.”
“Murderous, blood-drenched thoughts.”
“Even better.”
“Elowen Atarah.”
“If any of you touch her, you die,”
amulet on a gold chain; it’s beautiful. A diamond-shaped ruby dangles at the bottom with gold branches jutting out and tangling together, making an even larger diamond shape.
“Make them fear the flames of a queen.” She pauses for a moment. “We will meet again, Queen of Fire.”
“Careful, soldier. You’re glaring at me as if you’ll miss me.”
“Don’t hold your breath,”
red shirt paired with a brown waist corset and pants always adorned with knives.
“I believe the tactic of improvisation is one of my greatest weapons.”
My hair is the darkest shade of brown and falls to my lower back in loose ringlets, and my light brown eyes that appear amber in the sun are the fire to his ice.
The world is a magical place when you’re not surrounded by those who corrupt the peace and solace.
It resembles a circlet of intertwined tree branches.
“Wake up, coffee, stab someone, brush teeth,” I add.
“Shoot straight,” I say to Finnian. “Throw true,” he replies, finishing off our signature pre-battle exchange.
Empty bow hanging in the air, his hand still drawn back from the arrow he fired for me. His eyes meet mine across the battlefield, blazing in anger.
He shouts orders to his soldiers while charging forward, swinging his sword and never taking his eyes off me.
“Look at me,” Cayden states beside me, but I can’t.
“Elowen, look at me.”
“I didn’t know demons could experience emotions, but you look quite unsettled.”
“I don’t care enough to be unsettled.”
“Jealous it is...
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“My sweet affliction, I regret to inform you I don’t beg.”
“Believe me, Elowen,”
“my intentions are never honorable.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be the bane of my existence?”
“Good night, angel,”
“Good night, demon,”
“She is strong,” Finnian growls. “She can be strong and have anxiety. She’s not made of stone.”
Pastries have a special place in my heart—alongside dragons, knives, flowers, and books.
I know sometimes the most beautiful things can be the most dangerous.
“You’re going to protect me from my nightmares?”
“Not my original plan, but if you feel the need to scream my name during the night, you may do so.”
“I’m not much of a screamer, and I doubt you’ll turn me into one.”
“We’ll see about that, angel.”
