“You’re mine?” I barely squeaked the words out, feeling like a mouse, not a queen. “All yours,” Draven agreed, with a slow nod, “no matter what I might say or do in front of others.” He trailed a hand down the side of my face. “Remember that. I don’t have the luxury of wearing my heart on my sleeve like Ged and Soren, of proclaiming my love to the world like Brom or debauching you so fucking utterly like Flynn, but I can have this.”
