THE CHOICE: My King or My Knight?
[COMPLETE] When Zara walked in on her boyfriend sleeping with another woman, she cursed God for the lack of good men in this miserable, modern world. Then she woke up in a romantic land of honorable Knights and the Royal Court. There, Zara is stunned to find herself one of eighteen women called The Select, from which the handsome, powerful King will choose his bride. She finds the magnetic King compelling. But her dashing Knight Defender has declared his love—and vows to save her from certain death: Tradition requires every woman in the Select who is not the King’s chosen bride to be executed to cover her family’s shame. Yet, the King is also making his intention to win Zara clear. None of this would matter if it was just a dream. But Zara is soon forced to accept that this is no fantasy. Which means each man—and his love—is real. And this world is a deadly nightmare. As the tension between the two men grows, Zara must make a choice. But how can a woman choose between a powerful King and a deadly Knight? Especially when either would kill to keep her? Are you #TeamKing or #TeamKnight? COVER IMAGE: Copyright (c) 2023 Author AimeeLynn
Own Worst Enemy
If you like music while you read, try "Run Red" by Alexa Ray, David Michael Tardy, and Atom Music Audio. It's the perfect tone for this scene.
*****
~ DAVID ~
Captain Gabriel Stark was usually a rock. An unyielding wall of might that would not be moved from right. Or from certainty.
He was as unchanging as the passage of the sun, and as reliable.
The look on his face now was one I'd rarely seen on him, and yet others who didn't know him so well might have missed it entirely. The tiniest twitch of his brows and jaw spoke of stunned silence—the same as a gaping mouth for any other man.
I had truly shocked him—which made no sense. He had to have known this was the next step? We'd even spoken of it…
Yet, here he stood… blinking like I'd slapped him.
"David… You're already married," he said quietly, his voice low as if he thought to soothe me.
Bastard.
A spear of grief, rage, endless hurt sliced through my chest.