“Grant me strength,” he pleaded through clenched teeth.
I smirked. “Oh, he already did that.”
Beneath me, his body quivered, every muscle wound tight, as though bracing against the pull of what he wanted but couldn’t take. His fingers dug into my sides, as if he feared to move them.
When I reached for his belt, his hand caught my wrist in a grip that bordered on bruising. His breaths came in pants, and he arched into my touch, his body demanding I continue—but passion hadn’t clouded all of his sense. His voice was hoarse, trembling on the edge of control. “No.”
The word cut deeper than I expected, and when I glanced up, fear shadowed his features.
“I’m not her, Kallias,” I whispered. “I would never hurt you. Not now. Not ever.”
His eyes closed as if he were praying for strength, but when he looked at me again, his expression hardened. “That is why it cannot be.”
I wasn’t his queen.
I would belong to Tallon.
Fury surged through me, sharp and blistering, clearing the haze of desire clouding my mind. I could no longer stomach the thought of lying with him. Duty or not, there would be no bed shared with the prince. If I had to, I would fight him off with a knife or a dragon—but I would not let him defile me. A ceremony would bind our hands together, but my heart—and my body—would never be his.
“Take me.”
“I cannot!” His voice broke, desperate, as he tried to pull away.
I grasped his belt, fingers digging into the leather. “I will have no other as my first, Kallias. You were my first kiss.”
He pried my hand off, a twitch of pain flickering in his eyes. He shoved me with gentle force, rising to his knees, wincing as his body shifted. His mouth pressed to my forehead—tender, chaste—and a wave of sorrow swept through me.
“And you will be my last.” His voice trembled as he lifted my chin, his lips meeting mine with a quiet finality. “But I cannot be that for you.”
A dagger of anguish pierced through me. Why couldn’t I have just one more stolen moment with him? His refusal twisted inside me, sharper than any wound. My chest hollowed as I struggled for breath, the weight of it suffocating. I wanted to scream, tear out my hair. This wasn’t how my life was supposed to unfold.
“You would have me return to the palace,” I spat, fury rising within, “and spread my legs for your son–”
“No!” His roar cracked through the night, making me flinch. “I would have you feed your people! Secure peace for Radaan!” His voice broke, his hands curling into fists. “Do you think this is easy for me? That I don’t burn for you every moment, knowing I can never have you?”
“Then do not let him take me!” I choked out, the words trembling with desperation. “Write my father–”
“Yes, I’ll write yourfather, Dragon King of Draconia, and tell him that after swearing my blood-oath to protect his daughter, after promising my son would marry her, I’ve changed my mind and want her in my bed instead.”
“It would be the truth.”
He choked out a bitter laugh, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re not helping.” With a quick, sharp movement, he shot to his feet and grabbed his tunic. “What do you think your father would do?”
I already knew the answer. That’s why I’d never dared mention it. Kallias had given his word—sealed it with blood and his signet. His promise was a binding oath, one that tied his people to him. To go back now would break Draconia’s trust, and it would bring dragonfire down on Radaan.
And if my father discovered our deceit—if he learned I had kissed and nearly lain with a man when I was promised to another? As both a parent and a king, he wouldn’t rest until he shed blood.
“There’s your answer, Nienna,” Kallias said, pulling his tunic over his head. “That’s why I cannot write him. No matter how badly I want you, I can’t have you. You’ll marry Tallon, bring your dragons, and provide for your people.”
Tears blurred my vision “I don’t love him.”
“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with something more than regret. “But you don’t have to love someone to wed them.”
Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating. I wanted to scream, to claw at the injustice that had woven itself into the fabric of our lives. Instead, I whispered, “How can I marry someone when my heart belongs to another?”
He froze, his words brittle. “You don’t love me, Nienna. You cannot.”
The force of his denial crushed my chest, and tears seared icy paths down my cheeks. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe through the ache.
