My uncle has never written to me. I wonder what he wrote that he couldn’t have said in person. Before I take the letter from him, I look up at Lochlan. His face looks tired, and in the time, we’ve been separated, it’s like he’s aged several years. I can’t imagine any of this has been easy on him either. Sister Gabriella probably put him through hell when I left.

“Did they hurt you?” I whisper, a familiar pain clenching my stomach.

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Now open the letter.”

Giving him the side-eye, I decide to do as he says. I want to know what’s inside too. I slide my nail under the wax to break the seal and pull out the contents.

“It isn’t a letter,” I say, withdrawing a small painting. My eyes sting again. “It’s a portrait—of my parents.”

With the words Do not forget written under them in my uncle’s hand. The corners of the painting remain blackened, scorched from the fire that ravaged our home. They’re so young in this portrait. So happy. The tears that slip from my eyes splash my mother’s face and my father’s chest. I don’t recall them ever smiling like this. It must have been painted before I was born. I turn the painting around, checking if my uncle has written anything else, but only those three words remain.

“Do not forget…” I turn to Lochlan. “What do you think it means?”

I tuck the painting into my robe. It’s not like I could ever forget my parents. Or what Erax did to them.

“I think Dasinth wants you to remember there are still people loyal to your family,” he replies, “and that you’re not alone in this.” He then reaches out to gently wipe a strand of wet hair from my temple, cupping my chin with his other hand. “You never were alone, Lena.”

The muscles in my chest tighten. Something about the way Lochlan is looking at me feels strange. For the first time in my life, his touch makes me to pull away. The door is still open and if someone sees us… I shudder to think what Erax would do.

Through our bond, my dragon bristles, also feeling uneasy.

Mine. Erax’s words invade my mind all over again. You're mine.

“Loch—”

My words are stolen as Lochlan’s mouth crashes upon my own. His lips press firmly against mine as his hands twist through my hair, pulling me back to him. I tense my body, but I don’t fight him. In my shock and confusion, I let him pull me in, and for the briefest of moments, I close my eyes, neither willing nor reluctant to return his kiss.

I would be lying if I said I never wondered what it would be like to kiss Lochlan.

Lochlan, the boy who eased my suffering at the convent with his kindness. Lochlan, who grew into the man that tried to help me escape and win my freedom from the cage that bound us. Once or twice, I wondered what his lips would feel like against mine and if my heart would beat so loud it would erupt from my chest. As his tongue slips past my lips, my heart doesn’t beat.

It sinks.

This kiss doesn’t just feel strange. It feels wrong.

I push my hands against his armour, but Lochlan's grip tightens, his fingers digging into my arms. Then all of a sudden, he stops, and in his shadow stands Erax watching us. His body seems to swallow up the entire doorway as he stands there.

Panic flares through me and I step back quickly. “Erax, this isn’t what you think.”

Erax says nothing and keeps his eyes on Lochlan. The fact he says nothing scares me more than if he did speak. I know Erax is possessive of me, not only because I’m his wife, but because I’m his queen too. And he just found his queen kissing another man.

“This is my friend Lochlan,” I say quickly, as my body starts to shake.

Erax sweeps into the room with quick, heavy strides. “Then by all means continue as you were with your friend. Don’t let me stop you.” He drops into the armchair by the dresser and grips the arm rests, raising his leg over his right knee. “I’m really fucking curious to see how this plays out.”

His eyes latch onto me while Lochlan glares at him. He doesn’t bow or even acknowledge him as his king. He sizes Erax up like a predator would their prey. All the while, Erax looks at me like I’m about to be devoured by him.

“Go on.” He gives a quick, dismissive wave of his hand. “You have about three minutes before my guards drag that little fucker down to my Keep.”

“Your Majes?—”

Erax cuts Lochlan off with a single look. Just a look, a mere tilt of his head, and any words that needed to be said are conveyed with deafening profoundness. Erax wants blood.

Lochlan’s eyes flick down to the floor, and I’m suddenly reminded of the boy I knew at the convent, the quiet, submissive Lochlan who paled in Sister Gabriella’s presence. Reality is sinking in for the both of us now.

I touch his arm gently and try to pull him behind me. Erax zones in on the placement of my hand, and his gaze darkens. In the blink of an eye, he’s barrelling into Lochlan, tackling him to the ground. I’m knocked to the side, my hip banging into the side of the dresser, while Erax’s fist repeatedly slams down into Lochlan’s face.

Everything happens so fast, I’m barely able to plead with him to stop.