She brushed it anyway, using long, careful strokes that soothed my jagged nerves. When she finished, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the young woman staring back at me.
She looked like someone who had survived.
I straightened. “Alright. Time to stop moping. Let’s go wake the dragon.”
Maeve blinked. “You mean—?”
“Yeah. Damien. Time to tell him what his uncle just dropped on me like a magical nuke. Wish me luck.”
“You’ll need more than luck, my lady,” Maeve said with a knowing smile. “You’ll need honesty.”
And maybe for the first time since landing in this world, I wasn’t afraid of giving it.
I padded backthrough the hushed hallways of Royal Prince Bai’s estate, my damp curls brushing the nape of my neck and the blue gown swishing around my ankles. The fabric hugged me in all the right places and made me feel like I belonged in a castle—even if I was secretly a woman from the twenty-first-century masquerading as a noble dragon bride-to-be.
I wasn’t ready for this conversation with Damien, but avoiding it wouldn’t make the unease go away. Besides, I’d survived worse. Like waking up in a medieval fantasy land and pretending to be a woman I’d never met. Easy peasy.
The door to our room was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stepped inside.
Damien stood near the hearth, pulling a clean tunic over his head. My gaze lingered on his skin unapologetically as the shadows cast by the sunlight streaming through the window traced along the ridges of his muscular back before the fabric covered them. Surely a night of wild, unrelenting passion had earned me at least a few seconds of ogling rights.
When he turned and saw me, his shoulders visibly relaxed. “By the Immortals,” he exhaled, striding toward me. “Where did you go?”
I arched a brow. “Good morning to you, too.”
He stopped just shy of reaching me, hands twitching like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure if he should. “I woke up and you were gone. For a moment, I thought—”
“That I’d jumped ship back to my world without saying goodbye?” I teased, offering a smirk even though we both knew I couldn’t leave. “Rude. I’d at least leave you a Post-it note.”
He frowned. “A... what?”
I waved him off. “Never mind. Just know it would've been heartfelt. Maybe even punctuated with glitter.”
He gave a low chuckle and the tension in his brow eased. I closed the gap between us and reached for his vest and helped him slip it on, securing the clasps and tugging them into place. His gaze softened as I worked and he lightly brushed his fingers over my wrists.
“I was just roaming the estate,” I said. “Ran into your uncle. Had some tea. You know, girl talk.”
“Girl talk? With my uncle?”
I shrugged. “He’s surprisingly good at it. Stoic, sure, but the man knows how to pour a cup of hibiscus.”
His mouth curved in amusement. “What did you two talk about?”
I hesitated. Not because I was afraid of him knowing, but because I still wasn’t sure how to say it.
“He told me you told him. About me. Who I really am.”
Damien’s jaw flexed. “I wasn’t going to lie to him.”
“I’m not mad. It’s probably time someone else in this world got the full picture.”
He reached for my hand and gently held it between his. “He didn’t threaten you, did he?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” I glanced down at our entwined fingers. “But he did have opinions. Strong ones.”
Damien sighed and brushed his thumb along my knuckles. “Of course he did.”
I took a breath. “He thinks I should go home alone. He warned me that this world is too dangerous for me, but that you belong here.”
