He was a crown prince. A king. And I was a silly princess who was expected to give him heirs and stand at his side. The rules were different for women. I doubted Zavier would be willing to let me shatter my vows, even for the Guardian. Ransom wasn’t mine. He wouldn’t be mine. “I have to let go.” “Of what?” “You,” I whispered. “You are not mine to keep.” He breathed, shifting so close his chest brushed against my back. “What if I was yours?”
