“I won’t sleep with you tonight,” she said unwavering. He smirked and looked off into the distance as though something interesting was happening in the depths of the forest. “We will be leaving soon. Besides, I have never used my power for that,” he looked back at her, the flames of the campfire dancing malevolently in his eyes, “I wouldn’t need to.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With a stroke of gluttonous greed, Drakvol, the daemon king of the north, drained the fae of their magic by exterminating the ancient fae heart. With their defenses down, he managed to conquer all six kingdoms of Lucem; a ravenous and bloody acquisition. The balance of light and dark had been disrupted, magic surging through the veins of only the daemons, a recipe for disaster. Drakon, the crowned prince of Lucem, had been arranged to marry a princess of the Tarafin Kingdom. As a daemon, he wasn't particularly drawn to the thought of marriage to a fae. And neither was she, as the unification of the two species was about as unnatural as milk in mead. But upon the untimely death of his father, Drakon discovered that there was such a thing as too much power, and if he didn't move swiftly he'd suffer the same fate as the late king. In order to save himself, he'd need to siphon her dormant magic, the magic of a fae princess, and fuel it into his own being. However, Drakon hadn't expected his bride-to-be to hypnotize him with her beauty and charm. And what a shame, because what he'd need to do in order to save himself would ultimately result in her death.