Page 36

T he sun barely kissed the sky, and I am being summoned to the throne room. I didn’t want to get out of bed and leave Reign. After her nightmare, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I laid there, staring at her like the sleeping beauty she is. I took in every detail about her. Her lavender hair that fanned around her head, the freckles that dotted her face, her thick black lashes, and her plump lips. Her beauty captivates me—but more than that, her spirit bewitches me. She is reckless, formidable, yet kind and caring in her own ways. She is everything I want but don’t dare deserve.

No one has ever slept in my bed before—no one. This is another first Reign has brought upon me, and I am not mad at it. My scent lingers on her skin, and it suits her. Even as she slept, I couldn’t stop touching her, soothing her—another first for me. But the weight of my deceit festers, heavy in my gut, as I think about her going to Armadon.

She will be sent to Armadon, and no matter how badly I want to keep her, I know I can’t. It’s my duty. For my kingdom, I have to let her go. Yet the thought feels unbearable. I want to wake up with her every day, to hold her in my arms as the sun rises. The feeling is just as foreign as it is frustrating, knowing I can’t have what I want. It’s maddening—wanting something just for myself. She isn’t mine to keep, but this cursed heart of mine disagrees.

When I arrive at the throne room, my irritation echoes with every step I take, each one louder than the last. My father and Vanna sit, waiting on the dais, and the sight of her in my old seat fills me with rage.

“Prince Lukene, come in. We have much to discuss,” Vanna says with that dry, insufferable tone of hers.

“I’m disappointed in you,” my father grumbles. “Frolicking with that Drifter from the Hollows? How could you be seen in public with her? You’re a prince, for the goddess’s sake, and she’s nothing but a Drifter!”

Of course, he’s disappointed. What else is new? I close my eyes briefly, breathing through the fury threatening to consume me. My shadows stir, begging to be set loose.

“It’s not what you think,” I say through clenched teeth. “She?—”

“It doesn’t matter, Lukene. You will end it with her. Whatever it is, end it now or I will. I can guarantee you won’t like what I do if I have to stop it.” Malice drips from every syllable he speaks.

His threat hit its mark. Feeling it in my soul, a gnawing feeling ebbs at my stomach as Vanna plants a smug look on her face.

“I’m beginning to question your loyalty to the kingdom, Prince Lukene,” Vanna chimes in, her voice dripping with condescension.

“My loyalty has never wavered,” I growl, barely containing the rage building inside me. “My kingdom is my priority. It always has been—always will be.”

“Good,” my father says, leaning back in his chair. “We might make a decent Commander of the Guards out of you yet.”

His words sting more than I care to admit. Like a little boy being scolded, his words hurt. Everything I have ever done has been for my kingdom, never myself. Until now that is, with Reign. And to have my loyalty questioned feels like a blade sliding between my ribs.

“Now, onto more pressing matters,” Vanna says, her smile widening with malicious glee. I know whatever she’s about to say will set me off.

“Yes, important matters,” my father agrees. “You need to marry. It’s time, and, considering your behavior as of late, it’s the perfect time.”

The floor drops out from under me.

“Cora will be your wife,” he continues. “She’s of noble blood, her magic is strong, and she’ll bear you powerful children.”

My jaw drops. Disbelief crashes over me like a tidal wave. “I won’t marry her,” I say flatly, my shadows shifting restlessly at the edges of my vision. This news is darker than any magic I’ve wielded, suffocating in its finality.

“We aren’t asking, Lukene.” Vanna’s grin stretches wider. It makes me want to smack her in the face with my shadows or strangle her lanky neck with my hand—not sure which.

“Father, please,” I say, desperate now. “Let me choose someone else. Just give me a few days.”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully, and for a moment, I think I see a glimmer of mercy in his eyes. “Fine,” he says slowly.

Vanna snaps her head toward him, disbelief and fury twisting her features.

“You have a few days, Lukene,” my father warns. “But until then, you’ll stay betrothed to Cora. If you don’t find someone suitable—and I do mean someone we approve of—then you’ll marry her by default.”

My shadows thrash, desperate to escape, but I force them back. Speaking now will only damn me further, so I bite my tongue and give a stiff nod.

“Dismissed,” Vanna says with a venomous hiss.

As I turn toward the exit, I catch Vanna’s whispered words to my father: “We need to talk.”

After the meeting with my father yesterday, I’ve avoided Reign entirely. I’ve kept busy, though dodging Cora has proven equally exhausting. She finds every excuse to approach me, and I dismiss every attempt. Gods and goddesses, how did I get myself into this mess?

As I dress for the ball, my thoughts are consumed by Reign. What will she think when she finds out I’m betrothed? How will she react when she learns about Armadon? How in the burning double hells am I supposed to untangle all of this? With no answers in sight, I rake a hand down my face, frustrated.

Finishing up getting dressed in my usual black attire, I run a hand through my black tousled hair and head to the ballroom. As I enter the vast room, the stifling weight of my expectations presses down on me. The air is thick with meaningless chatter, and the people in this room are as dull as the walls that contain them.

I make my way toward the table, where James waits. He clasps my shoulder, smirking. “I heard the news… Are congratulations in order, or have you figured out how to unfuck yourself, Luke?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Does Reign know?”

“No. We’ve tried to keep her from hearing it.” He hands me a chalice of amber liquid, and I knock it back without hesitation, welcoming the burn of the brandy. James knows me too well—he immediately grabs another glass from a passing servant and hands it to me.

“Thanks… For all of it,” I say as I take a seat at our table, James follows suit.

“I told you to end it, Luke. I told you. This won’t end well for either of you. There is no need to explain how I feel about you, you already know. I also care for Reign. Nothing good will come from this, Lukene.”

Damn it. I know he is right. I never should have let things between Reign and me escalate. As I open my mouth to speak, Kylo joins us, his gaze following mine across the room.

“She’s not here yet,” he says to me, already knowing I am looking for her.

The music dims as the grand staircase doors open, and the crowd’s attention shifts.

“Presenting, Princess Lilyana! We come together to celebrate her name day!” Cheers erupt as my sister glides down the staircase, her green dress sparkling in the chandelier light.

“And now, presenting the King’s champion, Lavender Reign Santerra!”

The music swells again, and the dance floor stirs back to life.

Reign enters, her nervousness evident by her fiddling with her dress. She is a vision—a grand painting, hung for all to see. Her lavender hair cascades in soft curls, framing her face like an artist’s dream. The deep plum dress clings to her, dipping low between her breasts where a palm blade is cleverly tucked—looking as part of the dress. The fitted bodice flares into a flowing skirt, split daringly high on both sides, revealing her mid-thigh. And there, at her ear, dangle the black stone earrings I gave her. She looks perfect—utterly and dangerously perfect.

As she anxiously walks down the steps, Elm approaches her with a grin, taking her hand and spinning her into a dance. I didn’t notice at the last ball how fluidly she moves—graceful, precise, like water flowing to music. It’s bewitching to watch her. I’m transfixed.

When Elm twirls her, the skirt flares, and I catch a glimpse of the dagger and sheath I had commissioned for her strapped to her thigh. She’s so reckless—my Reckless. Dangerous and dazzling in equal measure.

Lilyana joins them, handing out glasses of wine. Reign drains hers quickly, clearly hoping to steady herself.

“Luke! Are you listening to me?” James snaps, pulling my attention back.

I slowly take my gaze away from my little reckless prisoner, shifting my focus to James. “Oh, Luke…” He shakes his head.

“What were you saying?” I ask as Kylo gets up from the table, heading over to my sister.

He huffs but repeats himself, clearly annoyed. “This talk of taking over Maduri… Put an end to it. Its neutral territory and blessed by the gods and goddesses. The soldiers that protect the temple are ruthless and said to be touched by the gods themselves.”

“I have heard the stories as well, James. Maybe I’m touched by the devil,” I quip with a grin.

James scowls, unimpressed. “This isn’t a joke, Lukene. Maduri has been without a ruler for centuries. It’s neutral territory for a reason.”

“I know. Nothing’s decided yet.” I glance back toward Kylo, who stands with Lilyana, Reign, and Elm, making them laugh—no doubt with his usual charm.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I mutter, though my attention is already drifting back to Reign.