Page 3 of Courting the Dragon Prince

Onyx stared at his betrothed, disappointment settling heavily in his gut. After all the bloodshed and loss of the war, Onyx yearned for someone with whom his heart could rest and with whom he could find some peace.

Prince Luther continued to glare at him.

But that wasn’t to be. Not in this marriage.

Onyx couldn’t bear to stare at his betrothed a second longer. He looked out over the crowded banquet hall. His gaze fixed on one of the gold-and-white tapestries that lined the wall.

In the Grey Mountains, a marriage meant fidelity and devotion. That was what one vowed on one’s wedding day.

But Prince Luther and Onyx’s vows would be different. The marriage contract he would sign had been negotiated by the six kingdoms with the assistance of the monks. Fidelity had not been included and would not be expected. There was a pledge “to be true,” but what that meant was open to interpretation.

Still, even if the marriage contract did not explicitly state a requirement of faithfulness, Onyx would not dishonour himself by seeking relations outside their marriage. It would go against everything he had been taught was honourable.

He doubted Prince Luther would hold himself to such high standards. But that did not matter to Onyx. Even if Prince Luther would happily debase himself, Onyx would not. He would not lower himself to his betrothed’s level.

So he’d resign himself to a marriage and life devoid of love.

Because whilst Prince Luther might be beautiful, with his bright-green eyes, high cheekbones, smooth brown skin, deep-brown wavy hair, and muscular body, he was clearly a prick. Onyx would rather stick his dick in an anthill than put it anywhere near Prince Luther.

Still, they’d need to fuck.Thatwas specifically written into their marriage contract and was required for sealing the marriage.

Tension vibrated through Onyx’s blood. He took a deep breath, trying to focus his mind, using the techniques he’d been taught over years and years. He pictured the sky over the mountain peaks, a view from the mountain temple where he’d spent many years training alongside his sister.

That mountain temple had been burnt and torn apart, reduced to nothing but rubble and ruins. His sister had died there, trying to defend it from a dragon attack.

Onyx’s throat convulsed. He lifted his gaze, staring up at the vaulted ceilings of the banquet hall. They had been painted to depict the sky on a sunny day.

He took a deep breath, wishing he were anywhere but here.

But he’d bury his disappointment. His rage. His fury. His grief and pain. He’d marry this spoiled, self-centred, vile prince.

The greed of the dragons had started the war.

Dragons had killed his sister.

But he’d marry one of them if it meant peace.

Mountain spirits guide me.

ChapterTwo

Prince Luther was doing everything in his power to stop himself from vomiting on the floor of the banquet hall.

His stomach roiled and convulsed, the contents of his gut sloshing around. He could almost believe his upset stomach was the result of being betrothed to someone who so clearly hated him.

But the truth was Luther had gotten shit-faced drunk. Of course, that was still Warden Onyx Obsidian’s fault.

Since the war, Luther had developed a deep appreciation for wine, ale, beer, mead, whisky, schnapps, brandy, and any drink that dulled the senses, pain, and memories. But there was something about being betrothed to someone who so clearly detested you that really made you want to drink until you finished the entire bottle. And then pick up the next one.

“We, the Monks of the Way of the Dove, have vowed to dedicate our lives to peace. As such, we are pleased to play a role in hosting this assembly and performing this marriage between two honourable men of such esteemed families.” The grand monk’s milky grey eyes gleamed with pride.

“We are truly humbled to assist in any way we can in the creation of this peace treaty between such mighty and noble nations.” The grand monk smiled.

Luther tried to follow the monk’s words. But they swam before him, muddling together.

Why did the grand monk always prattle on so much? Why couldn’t he just keep it short and snappy? Then Luther could slink away and empty his stomach in some dark corner before he curled up into a ball and succumbed to his never-ending misery.

He stared into the intimidating eyes of Warden Onyx. Warden was the title used in the Grey Mountains for princes or princesses. Word had it that Warden Onyx was a powerful earth elemental. He could hurl rocks, boulders, and stones through the air.