Description
Thrown into a Court of Chaos, Arya finds herself in the middle of a feud between brothers that runs millennia deep. Weaved into the very fabric of this feud herself, she must make a decision that could change the line of succession. ~ Arya thought she knew her place. The High Fae have ruled over the land of Amaris for millennia, keeping the Lesser Fae under their grip. Forced into the unlivable corners of Amaris, Arya's mother was determined to give Arya a better life. When she crosses the High King, it lands her within an inch of death. Rescued at the hands of Dorian, the bastard Prince, she finds herself at the epicenter of a century-old feud. In her attempt to balance both court politics and the struggle her own heart, she must fight for the future of the only place she has called home. ~ "You don't snore in your sleep, Arya," he spoke huskily. "First, your breathing gets heavy." A fingertip traced up my forearm. "Then, I hear you squirm. Do you know what you do right before you wake up?" Silence. "You call out a name, and it's not his." "You're making that up," I spat nervously, although the ghost of a dream with Dorian's hands in my hair slid past my vision. "Your scent tells a different story," I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I won't," he breathed, his lips inches from mine. "Unless you ask." The last tendrils of control that lingered unraveled at those words. I stole the inch of space that separated our lips, and melted mine against his
Part One
