Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Stay behind me, little dove,” he murmurs, not turning his head. “I’ll deal with this.”
I obey without thinking, staying in his shadow. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I don’t even know who’s behind that door. I don’t know what they saw or what they’ll say or what the Queen will do—but I know I don’t want to face it alone.
I put a hand on my heart and try to steady myself as Xaren strides to the door.
He places one hand on the handle…takes a deep breath.
And then he opens it.
30
ELAINA
The moment the heavy oak door swings open, I know we’re in trouble.
Four of the Queen’s personal guards stand in the corridor, their polished silver-and-black armor catching the torchlight and gleaming like the sharp edges of blades. Each of them has a sword drawn—bare steel, naked and ready.
My breath catches in my throat. Goddess above!
This isn’t just a formal summons. This is a show of power—of force. They want to make a scene.
The man in front—a tall, grim-faced male with a deep scar across one cheek who I recognize as the Captain of the Queen’s own guard—raises his chin and speaks in a clipped, authoritative tone.
“Prince Xaren, by order of Her Majesty the Queen, you’re to come with us. The Princess too.”
Princess.
The word hits me like a slap.
Not Lady Elaina or even Mistress Elaina. Just the Princess. As though I’m a possession now—an extension of the throne. Or maybe a tool to be wielded—or punished.
I feel my spine stiffen, but Xaren reacts first.
He steps fully into the doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame. I can only just see around him, but I feel the heat radiating off his body—like coals banked under the surface, ready to explode if stoked too far.
“You can sheathe your swords,” he says coldly. “I’ll come with you freely, provided you don’t lay a finger on my wife.”
His voice is soft…controlled. But there’s a thread of steel running beneath it that could slice a man clean through.
The guards don’t lower their weapons, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in the Captain’s eyes. He swallows, then glances at the others.
Xaren doesn’t wait for a reply. He steps back into the room, turning to face me, and I see the look in his eyes—protective, burning, possessive.
“You stay behind me, little dove,” he murmurs again. “No one will harm you while I draw breath.”
I nod, swallowing hard.
Then he turns back to the guards.
“Sheathe your swords,” he growls. “You know what I have inside me—you know how useless your weapons are if I decide to Shift. No sword can stop my Drake.”
“But the Queen’s orders—” the Captain begins.
“Sheathe them,” Xaren insists. “I won’t be marched down the halls of my own home with a cadre of armed guards as though I’m a threat to the Kingdom!”
Reluctantly, the Captain nods and slips his sword into his scabbard. The other men at arms do as well.
“Very well,” Xaren says. “Now we’ll come with you. But let me remind you—none of you had better touch my wife. Not if you don’t want to be burned to a fucking cinder.”
As he speaks, black smoke curls from his nostrils—a silent threat.
My legs feel shaky, but I follow him, keeping close as we step into the hallway. The stone corridor seems darker than before…colder. It’s like the very walls are holding their breath.
The guards form up around us, a square of steel and silence. No one says a word. But I can feel their eyes flicking toward me…judging…measuring. Maybe they’re wondering what it is about me that inspires such fierce protectiveness from the Dark Prince. I have to confess, I wonder that myself.
The guards march us down the corridor, the sharp clack of boots on stone echoing off the walls…echoing in my chest. My heart hammers in time with the rhythm. My mouth is dry.
What is the Queen going to do to us? What kind of punishment do we face this time? Another whipping? Or will it be worse?
I have no answers of course. I shouldn’t be surprised that she sent the guards to get us. I knew there would be consequences, both for what happened in the Royal Gardens yesterday and for Xaren showing his Drake. I just…didn’t expect them to come so fast.
Or to feel so final.
My thoughts spiral as we descend the main stairwell, the gilded columns of the upper hall sweeping past us. I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and barely recognize the pale woman with wide eyes and wind-tangled hair. My cheeks are still pink from the flight, and there’s a kind of wildness in my expression I’ve never seen before.
Is this what it means to truly live? To feel so deeply—so completely—and then have it all ripped away in a heartbeat?