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It couldn’t be.

He ran his fingers through the woman’s hair until he picked out a stray pansy from within a ruined braid. But he knew it had to be. Nobody had hairthatred.

Only her.

“My lord?” his second asked.

“Did you find the heir?” Arrik asked quietly, pushing the woman’s hair from her pale, cheeks. He gently turned her face toward him so he could get a good look at her. Freckles dusted the tops of her cheeks and nose. Long lashes and a pert, full mouth.

“There has been no sign of her. My men are now scouring the outlying moors.”

Arrik hummed and took in the rest of her appearance. Her clothing was too big for her as if she’d changed in haste. Had she thrown on the clothes to join the battle or because she was trying to disguise who she was?

He reached from the hem of her wet soiled shirt and lifted it until he could see her belly button. Shane cursed when Arrik pushed down the right side of her trousers, revealing a jagged scar.

A shark bite.

Princess Wren.

By the stars, he’d almost killed the heir to Lorne.

“How in the blazes did she come upon you?” his second questioned. “Surely, they would have hidden her away?”

Arrik traced the scar gently and then pulled down her shirt. He was a barbarian not a lecher. “I have a feeling no one can control this woman.”

“Which is a problem. Your father doesn’t like wild women.”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, he does, but only to break them.” Like he’d done to Arrik’s mother. The heir’s eyes began to rove beneath her lids. She’d be waking soon, and he needed to be ready. Soon their battle of wills would begin, and he’d be the victor. It was the only way…for the both of them. “Call your men back. We’ll need them I suspect.”

Shane nodded and strode away, disappearing the same way he came.

Arrik stared hard at the woman who would make the king of Verlanti the most powerful man in the western hemisphere. Nothing would be out of his father’s grasp. Not much was known about the royal family of the Dragon Isles. Oswin had kept his kin deliberately private, which almost anyone in Verlanti took to mean that he was hiding any number of secrets. Illegitimate children were the most obvious of these secrets. It was common knowledge that the former king of the isle had one daughter, but her appearance and age were a mystery. It was only through a very, clever spy that they were able to discern that she was of age, had red hair, and had a scar on her right hip from where a shark bit her.

His attention moved to her bare arms. No markings. Legally, she had not been married.

Wren had lost her family, her future husband, and her dragon in one fell swoop.

He recalled how she’d recklessly dove from the sky time after time on her mount. She flew like she didn’t care how it all ended. That was a problem. A person with nothing to lose was dangerous.

Arrik gave her another once-over, taking in the lean and compact muscles of her arms and her legs. Even beneath the ill-fitting clothes, he could tell she was strong. The young woman was in prime fighting shape, and given the way she’d so fearlessly attacked Arrik…

She was no mere princess who spun thread, sang songs, and read all day. Wren fought fiercely for her people. He would have to tread carefully, or he’d find another sword in his back.

“It’s fortunate for me that you didn’t die when I had you shot from the sky,” he murmured. “You should have remained hidden,” Arrik told her unconscious form.

Several sets of footsteps approached and he stood as Shane and his men filed into the room. Arrik’s hard mask slipped into place as he strode from the chapel.

“Bring her to me when she wakes,” he commanded. “We have things to discuss.”

11

Wren

“She’s waking up.”

Wren groaned as someone seized her arms and dragged her across the floor, her shins bumping painfully against the debris of the chapel. Her eyes snapped open. She lifted her head and glanced up at the brutes on either side of her. The elven warriors were both extremely tall and were almost mirror images of each other except one had long shiny black hair and the other orange curly hair and a short beard.

She struggled to get her feet beneath her, drawing the attention of the redhead. He smirked at her and shook his head.