When King Lucien pulled Danika into a hug, blanketing her in his muscular arms, everything suddenly felt right in the world when she got over her shock from the gesture. She allowed her wet eyes to slide close, and she wrapped her arms around him.
It had been four weeks since she’d been in his arms. Four excruciating weeks of pain and misery.
Danika closed her eyes and tightened her arms around the king. It didn’t matter if that moment was fleeting. If he regained his senses and pushed her away. What mattered was the moment—this stolen moment between them.
Since her status had been reduced and she became a slave, Danika learned to live in the moment, because good moments were scarce when you’re a slave.
Finally, he pulled back. She looked up at his deep blue eyes, that didn’t look so
