Page 89 of Courting the Dragon Prince

He is on his way to meet someone.

And why exactly would Luther be meeting someone in the middle of the night? Disappointment and hurt settled heavily in Onyx’s gut.

Which of Luther’s many lovers had he arranged a midnight rendezvous with? Prince Elias? Someone else? He seemed awfully close to Lord Barrett Morton.

Onyx swallowed the bitterness in his mouth. Onyx was no fool. He hadn’t expected a single afternoon and night together would mean a lifetime of love and devotion.

But Onyx had thought, or hoped, that after everything that had happened between them that day, Luther might think enough of Onyx not to sneak out of his bed in the middle of the night to fuck someone else.

“So who exactly are you going to meet?” Onyx asked, unable and unwilling to keep the disgust from his voice.

“What?” Luther blinked at him.

“Which of your many lovers are you going to offer your arse to?”

Luther reared back as if struck. “That’s not what I’m doing!”

Onyx scoffed. “No. You’re just slipping off in the middle of the night for no reason.”

Onyx rose. He didn’t want to fight with Luther whilst reclining in bed. He just wished he weren’t naked. Onyx felt that shouting at someone whilst nude diminished the point one was trying to make.

“I can’t believe you.” Onyx’s voice rose. “Youasked to sleep here tonight, and now you’re creeping off without a word to go and fuck someone else.”

“That’s not what’s happening!” Luther’s hands balled into fists.

“Then tell me what is!” Onyx yelled.

Luther didn’t respond for a second, just glared at Onyx. “I’m going flying.”

“Flying?” Onyx laughed. “It’s the middle of the fucking night. You think I’m foolish enough to believe that? Don’t lie to me!”

“It’s the truth.” Luther took a step towards him. “I’m not lying!” Luther said through gritted teeth. “I just …” He trailed off. He looked down at the floor.

“Just what? Struggling to come up with a believable lie, Luther?” Onyx spat.

Luther’s mouth moved, but no words came forth. “I get nightmares,” Luther said finally, his voice soft. “I fly when I get nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Onyx blinked, trying to process that. “You get nightmares? About what?”

Luther’s mouth snapped shut.

Onyx studied Luther’s face, his expression. With a shock, Onyx realised it wasn’t guilt on Luther’s face. It was shame. He was ashamed of these nightmares.

“It doesn’t matter.” Luther gave a shake of his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Onyx stood frozen, unable to form words. He wished he could take back the accusations he’d hurled in anger.

Because clearly, the nightmares mattered. They mattered enough that Luther couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stay in bed. They were so bad he had to get up to go and fly.

“I’ll just go.” Luther swallowed. “Sorry to wake you.” He paused. “But ah … thanks. I don’t sleep well. And even with these nightmares, this is the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

From the moment they’d met, Onyx had a picture of Luther in his head. A picture of an arrogant, spoiled, selfish, egoistic young man, uncaring and untouched by the devastation and pain of the war.

Onyx had despised and loathed that man with his entire being.

But the more he saw of Luther, the more he wondered how much of that picture was the truth. Luther definitely projected that image of himself. He wanted others to believe it. But why?

Maybe so they wouldn’t see what the charming, flippant dragon prince was underneath.