Page 122 of Mercy & Her Devils

And I’m also a princess.

What would Fletcher say?

What kind of conclusion would that make to his case study?

Kai’s gaze becomes possessive and dominant as it sweeps over me. “You’re my princess.”

Then to my shock, he kneels in front of Lark.

Lark makes a soft sound like the breath has been knocked out of him. “And soon, I hope that you’ll do me the honor of becoming my prince.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Buck Forest, Devil Estate

“You’ve been a prince all this time and you didn’t tell me.” I hurry after Gabriel through the warm shafts of sunlight in Buck Forest.

I love the sensation of the sun on my face, even if there’s a strong breeze that’s whipping through my thick, scarlet coat. I hug it more closely around myself.

I rested this morning after my heat. When I threw the bedding off me this afternoon, I discovered that I felt stronger than I have in a long time.

Have the new bonds cured the symptoms of my broken bond?

I love that my muscles feel powerful, and I can walk confidently by myself again.

“And you’re now a princess, so we’re even,” Gabriel replies. “I still prefer you as the dragon. Plus, Kai’s past is painful. It was his story to tell. I couldn’t break his confidence.”

I respect that.

Gabriel’s dressed in black on black: jeans, shirt, and a long, woolen coat.

It makes him look dangerous, as he marches through the wood.

It also makes his eyes and hair look even more startling.

I take a deep breath of the pine scented air that feels like life.

The trees are tall, closing in on me on each side. I can hear the roar of the creek and the buzz of insects.

The forest is teeming with life.

It’s ancient.

“You’d suit a gold circlet on your neat, blond head,” I say. “You’d look like one of those classical guys.”

Gabriel doesn’t even glance over his shoulder. “Caesar?”

“As long as it’s not the one who ended up stabbed to death.”

“Don’t worry, I’m more likely to be shot. Now, princess, patrolling is meant to be silent. I’ll be even safer then.”

Lark laughs, but it comes out as a wheeze.

He’s been struggling to keep up. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Unlike me, he’s still suffering from Broken Bond Syndrome. I think that he has been from the moment that I met him, more than he’s let on.

Lark bends over, holding up a shaky hand. “How about we all have a nice little rest on this horrible log?”

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