[Primus] My sister is a sadist. She would make an amazing dictator, the way she bends people to her will, forcing them to do whatever she says is “in their own good.” She's also a much better liar. Maybe I should just hand her the throne right now and save myself the trouble of ascension. That way nobody would need to plan a coup to depose me when they discover my mate is a human. Just one small action would solve so many of my problems. Especially the problems waiting for me on the other side of this door, the ones I really do not want to face. I'm not sure why Ona insisted I wait here when she doesn't even know if I will be allowed to enter. Staring at the wall which is also the door to her room, my left hand reaches up to trace the letters of her name with my fingers. I remember how angry she was to find it there. Carnelia. Her new name was one of the first gifts I ever gave her. Like all the other things I had given her, she had hated that gift too. It seems like I am not so go

[Primus] I pull her to me, kissing her fully. She doesn’t resist, she lets me kiss her. Moaning, I deepen our kiss, pressing her gently against the pillows. I want to devour her, to drink her tears and kiss her every hollow. I need to join with her, I need to feel complete. “Carnelia,” I growl, my fangs elongating, preparing to mark her. “Primus, what are you doing!” She shouts, trying to push me away. “I’m going to mark you and make you mine,” I begin nibbling along her neck. “Everyone will see that you are mine, only mine.” “Primus you need to stop,” she begins to cry. “I did not say…” I quiet her with my tongue. Foolish woman. She bites me again. I pull back excitedly. “Yes! Bite me! Mark me again!” “ONA!!!” She screams at the top of her voice. “I NEED YOU!” There is a scraping at the door but I use my will to keep it shut. My sister is a meddlesome crone. “I know you want me, Carnelia, I can smell it.” “Not like this,” she shouts, crying. “This is too soon, I don’t eve

[Carnelia] I know that Ona is trying to help, that she wants Primus and I to find a way to connect but I am still so unsure of what I really want. It’s been two days since we made that deal, but part of me is hoping that she will fail. I’m not sure if I can face him, especially considering how earnest he has been with emotions and how muddled I still am with mine. Do I love him? I don’t even know him. How can you love a person you don’t really know? Am I ready to commit to him? Again, just because our bodies have an immediate, chemical reaction to one another doesn’t mean we need to be together. I know that Primus feels this deep bond, but I can’t say that I’m feeling anything nearly as intense. Except for when we argue. That infuriating dragon sets me on fire in a way that no one else has ever been able to do. Hate is a type of passion, I guess, but it is not love. Do I still hate him? Did I really hate him before? Oh yeah, no I definitely hated him before. Damn infuriatingly

[Carnelia] “...and so I said to the sailor, ‘I’d put a cap on that if I were you,” I can hear Ona cackling before I even turn to pass the arboretum. I wonder if we have a guest because I haven’t seen anyone arrive, but she is having a good time with someone. Now I understand why Ona was being so cryptic when she told me to dress up tonight. Looking down, I’m glad that I decided to pull one of these gowns that Primus had made for me out of the dressing room. It has been weeks since I’ve worn anything that didn’t resemble a glorified sheet. It feels strange wearing the corset and petticoats again, but at least I will look good for whoever is in the main hall making Ona laugh. “Sister, enough!” he chuckles. “No more! I just can’t I…” The smile I was wearing to greet our guest falls suddenly from my face as I forget how to breathe. Primus is sitting at the head of the table with Ona to his right. She is holding up a large glass goblet of what appears to be wine, but knowing

[Carnelia]    “You jerk!” I scream at him, my dress and hair are surprisingly dry for having just rushed through a waterfall. “That was not nearly enough warning.”    His large belly laugh echoes through the chamber, his body rattling me as he holds me tightly in his arms.    I punch him hard in the chest and he drops me. But instead of hitting hard stone, I find myself lying on top of a soft silk cushion. Surprised, I look down to find the cushion is not alone, it has several