Page 72 of Courting the Dragon Prince

I really am a selfish prick.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Luther turned his gaze to the grand warden. Guilt gnawed at him as he thought about how he’d mocked her in her pain.

Was that what the purple drink was, lysithea tea? He’d heard of it and its properties. He’d even asked the herbalists in Draconia about it. But it was a rare plant that grew only under the eyes of the nature mages in Botanial. Even after the war, he had not known how to get a hold of it in Draconia.

Luther stood in the corridor. The grand warden stared blankly ahead of her. He felt wretched for what he had said. He’d not been aware that she’d been devastated by grief.

Do I only care about myself? About my suffering?

Luther let out a breath. He’d been hurting since the war, his mind filled with terrors from the past. Had his own pain consumed him to the point where he’d forgotten that others hurt too?

Gerard’s face flashed in his mind. Gerard had been reserved since his injury. And although Luther had worried for him, had he actually done anything to help him or show he cared?

His skin prickled with unease. He knew he was a mess and a fuck-up. It seemed he’d also failed to behave like a semi-compassionate being too.

Should I go to Onyx? Apologise to him?

The grand warden slowly slumped in her chair. Luther wondered what it would be like to drink the tea and lose himself to the oblivion it promised.

Letting out a breath, he took a step forward.

ChapterThirty-One

In his room, Onyx shoved a few basic belongings into his pack.

He needed to get away from Luther. He needed to take a horse and ride out of the monastery towards the mountains. There were some on the island. He’d seen them from a distance. There, he’d hurl and fling rocks, smashing them until his anger, frustration, and rage towards Luther had been spent.

He’d probably be gone at least one day. Maybe two. Maybe a week.

Doing up his pack, he tugged it on his back and left his room. The servants he passed scuttled out of his way. Onyx’s anger was no doubt clearly etched onto his face.

Luther didn’t give a damn about Onyx. Or anyone. He cared about no one but himself.

Onyx had believed that Prince Luther, grandson of the Dragon Queen Hildegard who’d started the war, would be a self-centred, egoistic jerk. But Luther had far surpassed all Onyx’s worst assumptions.

How could Luther be so oblivious to the fact that Onyx, his spouse, had recently lost a sister? It was incomprehensible!

Onyx needed to get away. He couldn’t bear to look at the prince’s face or be anywhere near him. The man disgusted him. Repulsed him.

Onyx strode down the corridor.

Well, at least he’d consummated their marriage before finding out how truly revolting Luther was. Onyx didn’t think he could tolerate touching the man now. Onyx would rather be celibate the rest of his life than fuck Luther ever again.

He’d still hold to his vow. He’d be true to Luther in the manner of the earth elementals. He’d take no other to his bed. Onyx would uphold his beliefs.

And Luther could do whatever the fuck he pleased. Onyx didn’t care.

The man had no principles. No morals. No decency.

Right now, though, Onyx needed to get away from his husband.

A sense of guilt gnawed at him. Could he really just leave the monastery, the assembly, the negotiations, and his new spouse?

He didn’t feel guilty about the last part. Luther wouldn’t give a shit about Onyx leaving. He’d no doubt find others to keep him company. Onyx’s lip curled.

Onyx’s footsteps slowed as a horrible realisation dawned on him. Because he couldn’t get away. Not for long. They’d need to remain physically close to each other for the rest of their lives. He couldn’t leave the monastery and Luther for days. He’d need to remain near his spouse.

For a split second, he’d forgotten as his anger had raged inside him. Yesterday, he’d signed a marriage contract that bound him to remaining close to Luther.