BLURB
435 Words
The Devil Lord’s Fiery Bride
Content Warning:
This book contains explicit adult scenes, strong language, and a romance that begins with hostility and evolves into intense passion. It features themes of power dynamics, forced proximity, and enemies-to-lovers. Recommended for mature readers only (18+).
THIS STORY AND THE EVENTS, INCLUDING THE ARRANGED MARRIAGE, ARE PURELY FICTIONAL.
***
BLURB
I am Lady Elena… or perhaps I should call myself the spare princess? Either way, I prefer to be addressed as “Lady.” While living quietly with my father in King Harold’s palace—my father’s cousin—I had no remarkable story to tell.
There was a war.
Yet within the palace walls, we were untouched by it. My father opposed the fighting, but they claimed the borders had to be defended against the Scots.
My story began the day I was given away to a ruthless Scot as a war prize… all in the name of peace. I was eighteen when I crossed into Scottish lands, unaware of what awaited me there.
***
SPOI
“Sure your legs will hold you?” he asked, amused. His breath brushed my face, and being held like some doll made my skin crawl. His gaze slid down to my cleavage, and I caught the way his jaw tightened. He ground his teeth, swallowing hard.
“Of course I’m fine! Put me down and you’ll see!”
In truth, my legs were numb, my arms sore. But Andreas set me down anyway—only to lean toward my ear.
“It’s nice that English women are so generous about showing off their t**s, but if you keep them on display like this, I’ll bite them until they bruise.”
My mouth dropped open. I yanked my cloak shut over my chest. “Are all Scottish Lords as shameless as you? If this is unique to you, I’ll write to my king and have him find me another suitable husband!”
“You trying to insult my honor, Lady Elena?”
“I’m trying to protect mine, my Lord!”
“Say that again, and it won’t be your honor you need to protect—it’ll be your life. Don’t doubt me, my lady,” he warned, his voice full of heat.
Ah… so his honor was his weak spot. This man would kill me over it, no question. I decided not to push further. “Then try speaking to me without being rude,” I said, stepping back quickly toward the inn. My legs hurt, but they didn’t burn half as much as the weight of his murderous stare.
- Writer
