Damien's mark.
It had saved her life.
And destroyed everything else.
It had pulled her from her world and tied her to his, made her a pariah among her own people.
After breakfast, Luna stood from her half-eaten plate with new resolve. She had to see him.
"I'm going to see the prince," she informed the guards stationed at the building's entrance.
"Yes, princess," one of them nodded.
King Lucivar had spared no effort making her feel secure and comfortable. The house was a marvel of elegance. She had everything she needed. Everything but him.
Once she completed the ritual at the High Temple, she would begin her duties as royal envoy. She just needed Damien to understand that she wasn't running away. She was preparing for them.
It was simple. Wasn't it?
Then why did it feel like she had already lost him?
Her steps quickened.
