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#POSSESSIVE
#SWEETLOVE
#LOVEATFIRSTSIGHT
#ROYALFAMILY
#FIRSTLOVE
#FACESLAPPING
#PRINCESS
#FORBIDDENLOVE
#KIDNAP
#HIDDENMARRIAGE

Loving the Forbidden Prince

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending? Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask. Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire. Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever? [Mature content. No sexual violence.] ****** “You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…” “I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced. His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity. “No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.” “How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying. “Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her. His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy. She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.” She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again. “Please, Ayleth.” “I cannot deny it,” she whispered. [Cover specially commissioned and illustrated image by Same Van Rijn. See more of their amazing art on Instagram: @same.vanrijn]

AimeeLynn · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
229 Chs
#POSSESSIVE
#SWEETLOVE
#LOVEATFIRSTSIGHT
#ROYALFAMILY
#FIRSTLOVE
#FACESLAPPING
#PRINCESS
#FORBIDDENLOVE
#KIDNAP
#HIDDENMARRIAGE

Capable

AYLETH

"I'll sneak you back through the corridors," he said when they were far enough from the stable not to be heard. "Keep your hair in your hat, and if anyone asks, I'll tell them you're my stablehand and I've asked for your help."

He grimaced. If it were to happen, whoever he spoke to would believe they were interrupting something sick. But he didn't see any way around it.

"I don't need to go back through the castle," she said, walking quickly beside him. "I'll get back to my room from the outside."

"What?" He stopped walking and faced her.

She grinned. "Come, I'll show you."

She led him through the gardens. They were forced to hide in some bushes for a few minutes until the guards had passed. Etan was utterly unimpressed with the security of her guard that the two of them could get through simply by knowing when to dart across the grass and into the bushes under the walls of the castle.

But he made mental note of where she was leading him, what she whispered about the guards' routine, and where the hidden spaces were that they used… just in case.

When they reached the foot of the great stone wall, she looked up and pointed at the balcony two floors up.

Etan's eyes widened. "I thought you were scared of heights? Let me help you, I can't get you to the balcony proper, but—"

"You're very sweet, Etan, but I don't need help. I've been doing this for years."

He looked at the wall skeptically. "Do you have a rope? I could—"

But she merely snorted and, after a lingering kiss and a sigh, she turned and lifted herself up the trellis of rose vines. She was nimble and strong and took only seconds to reach the balcony height. While he enjoyed the view of her climbing in the leather pants, his heart leaped into his throat when she lifted one leg over the balcony rail and slid herself onto it, which required letting go of the trellis. But soon enough she was safely behind it, and turning to lean back over, her long red hair falling in waves around her smiling face.

He stared up at her, shaking his head. "You're the most beautiful and courageous woman I've ever seen!" he whispered. "Two weeks, Ayleth. No one will be able to make me wait a moment longer."

"Two weeks," she returned and blew him a kiss. Then she disappeared.

Etan turned away and snuck back through the garden, his head spinning with love and fear in equal measure.

Somehow, he found his way back inside the castle and through the halls, his head throbbing with lack of sleep, lust, and… the bemused joy of knowing that he had somehow, impossibly, found the woman of his dreams. And she had found him back.

And in that moment, the looming threat of what would happen when their parents found out, when the Kingdoms learned of their love, when they, inevitably, had to fight to stay together—it all seemed as if together, he and Ayleth could defeat it by sheer will.

He was hers, and she was his.

He wouldn't hear of anything else.

Blood-enemies be damned.

*****

As soon as he stepped into his chambers the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was someone in the room.

He hesitated, but Borsche's words in training echoed in his head. "Allow the enemy to underestimate you. It will make him sloppy. Give no hint when you have sniffed out his plots. Let him hang himself with his own rope."

So, he ran his hand through his hair to cover a quick scan of the sitting room with his eyes and let himself trudge across the space toward the bedchamber. His sword was leaned against the door inside. He'd been stupid to leave it there, he saw now.

As he pushed open the bedroom door, from the corner of his eye he caught a flash of movement in the small gap between the door and the wall—in exactly the spot where he'd left his sword.

Turning smoothly to close the door, as if was simply a tired Lord on his way into the room, instead he dropped to one knee, sliding the knife from his boot and bringing it up from an angle his attacker wouldn't expect.

He froze, the point of the knife just a hair from Borsche's throat and blew out a heaving breath. "Father's Light, Borsche—I could have killed you!"

***** 

Looking for another great fantasy romance read? Try my other book: THE CHOICE: My King or My Knight?