Prince of the Arena (Beasts of the Briar, #1.5)

by Elizabeth Helen

I can’t remember a single conversation I had with anyone tonight, but I can remember every word he’s ever said.

“Let’s go get our treasure,” Farron says. I don’t respond, only capable of nodding. Because damn if I haven’t already found mine.

Oh, but you did. You stole my sense, my reason, the very breath from my lungs. You stole the peace from my soul and every thought that dared not be of you.

I stroke his wavy hair and stare up at the stars. Which one did he come from? Which one did I? Why does it feel like we came from the same one?

I won for him. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. And damn to the gods if that isn’t more frightening than fighting to the death in the arena.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Fare,” he says. Then he places his hands on the sides of my face and kisses me. Kisses me in front of everyone, for all to see. I melt into his embrace. I matter to him. Matter more than undermining Damocles. Matter enough to show his family what we are to one another. I kiss my boy back and he tastes like starlight.

“Roses, Fare?” “Hmm?” He sits up and looks over at me. I gesture to the myriad of swirling roses drawn in the sand. “Is this your way of hinting you want me to get you flowers?” He flushes as pink as the setting sun. “They’re my favorite flower. I’ve always thought they were the most beautiful.”

Sobbing

I’m in love with you, Daytonales, Prince of Summer. All the stars and the sun and the moon could vanish from the sky, and you would be all the light I’ll ever need.