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He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore Soren’s words. Since he was a child, the king had always told him he wasn’t good enough, that he was less than everyone around him, and yet he always expected more from Arrik than anyone else in Soren’s company. As a child and young man just coming into the bloom of youth, he’d pushed himself to be better than everyone else to win the king’s approval. His actions hadn’t gained his father’s approval. It had, however, turned him into Soren’s personal tool.

You are not his to command. You control your own fate.

He looked down at the woman who haunted his dreams—who he’d longed to meet again.

The princess who had screamed from the back of a dragon as she took out his men.

The dragon who’d fearlessly attacked him in the ruins of her father’s castle after she’d already lost everything.

The one pawn that had turned Arrik’s life upside down by refusing to bend to his will.

He wasn’t a devout man by any means, but he thanked every star that Wren had not been so easily broken. Her resolve—her determination, her passion—lit a fire in him that burned as brightly as her hair. He’d always lived his world in the gray. And he’d liked it that way. Nothing could hurt him if he didn’t care, but this woman, this Dragon Princess, had ruined everything.

The world was starting to gain color and he was catching feelings.

It was problematic.

You don’t want it to stop.

It was a shameful secret that he’d never reveal. Arrik knew that it would be the end of him if he ever did.

“How’s life on the run treating you, darling?” he growled the next time their blades slid against each other sinuously and they were brought within touching distance once more. He spotted tiny flecks of green in Wren’s deep blue eyes.

“I’d say it’s better than being shackled to you and your family,” she replied, trying once more to surprise Arrik with her dagger. But he never fell for the same distraction twice, and he parried the blade away with the pommel of his sword.

“Something tells me the rebels don’t give you as much freedom as you desire. Are you not, in any other sense of the word, their prisoner?”

It wasn’t far from the truth.

Josenu had reported how the rebels were treating his wife in the camp. He’d let her escape his prison only to enter another. One far from his family’s grasp.

A shadow of doubt crossed her face, and something in his chest clenched. Perhaps things were worse than Josenu had led him to believe?

She must have seen something on his face, because her expression blanked a second before she lunged at him, her sword aimed at his stomach.

Not today, my vicious darling.

He laughed heartily, though in truth the woman’s attacks were getting ever more precise—and dangerous. “I’ve clearly hit upon a sore spot. If you’re going to be a prisoner either way, why not rule a kingdom? Come back to me and—”

“It isn’t your kingdom to rule!” Wren shouted, sparks flying from her sword when it screeched against Arrik’s. “The Dragon Isles willneverbe yours.”

“Have you forgotten everything we spoke about before you betrayed me?” Arrik countered, knocking Wren’s sword from her hand with a strike of pure brute force.

She gasped and her gaze followed the arc of her blade’s fall—well out of her grasp—and back to Arrik. His wife pulled another dagger from her waist and sank into a defensive position, contempt and determination reflecting in her eyes.

This had gone on long enough. It was time to reel her in.

“Do you remember what passed between us?” he asked softly, the wind rustling through the trees above them.

She flinched like he’d struck her. “Why bring that up now? You’d have said anything to stop me killing you in your sleep! You’re a liar and a murderer.”

“I have lied. And I have killed. But I did not lie to you, Wren, and your life is safe with me.” He meant it. “Three days prior I could have captured you. I let you go. I have been protecting you formonths.”

Saying her name aloud gave the Dragon Princess pause, and in that one opportune moment Arrik closed the distance between them until they were standing toe-to-toe. With a hooked finger he tilted Wren’s chin up to face him. Her eyes were swimming with fury, her lips contorted into the most delicious snarl Arrik had ever seen. Any moment she could stab him—and yet she paused. Maybe she felt the same pull he did?

“Why would I believe anything you told me?” she uttered, voice barely audible over the throbbing of his heart. “You’ve never given me reason to trust a word you said.”

“Have I not, wife?”