Kael leaned against the cold of the frame at the great window of his room, the morning sun pouring golden light onto the highly polished marble floor. He watched as his eyes scanned the training fields below. There she was, Isla, laughing as she danced around the moves of her opponent, her hair a torrent of flame in the sunlight. Her laughter, bright and merry, drifted up to him, bringing a heat to him he could not fight.
His heart constricted. It was times like these that he allowed himself to believe she was truly his, that she had always been his and would always be. But her past loomed over her like a ghost—one that had followed her to his kingdom. And now that past stood before him, in the form of Zane.
The door to his room burst open, and Kael turned, his face shutting down as he w
