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The Dragon Prince's Bride

*Author's other work (She belongs to the Demon King)* *** They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other! When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt. That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom. Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife. Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything. Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love? Excerpt "I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!" ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger. "Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love." He calmly grabbed her poking hand. "And what would that be, my fine sir?" "That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear." "You—" "And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!" "You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!" "Well you are no precious prize, are you?" And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree. His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.

AnnieQuin · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
162 Chs

8. Me before prince Barak.

Neriah had her cloak over her head again. She wasn't certain, but a member of her palace could be in these buildings, so she had to hide her identity perfectly.

As they walked deeper into the building, the first thing she noticed was that the knights and guards around didn't look hideous at all. Yes, their skin color was far from fair like hers, but still, they weren't hideous.

Her father was right. She hated to admit it, but he was right. They weren't that bad, in fact she'd spotted a number of fine, tall and fit gentlemen that made her blush and wonder what in the world she was doing in a den of wolves. Or in this case, a den of dragons.

They had come across some young maids, and they too were dark skinned, beautiful, and perfectly shaped.

Who in the world made all those horrible stories about these people? They were normally dressed, like the people of her kingdom.

The stories she heard and read made it seem like the people of Trago were some kind of primitive lot. The kind that grunted and walked around with animal skin as a loincloth.

Maybe the prince will be a handsome old man, she thought to herself.

The second thing she noted was that the man whom she was following at the moment was someone high up. Maybe a high ranking knight. The people they came across seemed to bow down to him…

No not seemed to, they did bow to him.

Still following this very tall man to go and meet her chosen spouse whom she hoped would be a nice and handsome old man, Neriah wondered when they'd get to their destination.

At least. If he was nice, maybe she'd beg him and explain to him that she was in love with someone else. And he'd have pity on her and reject the proposal. Who knows, he could be a decent barbarian like her father had said.

"Are we not there yet? Does your prince stay on the moon?" She had already said the words before she remembered she was a maid at the moment. And the look in those eyes grew darker as he turned to her, and she quickly moved her lips to speak. "I mean no disrespect, we have been moving round the place for a while and, well, he—" what was wrong with her? She was never at a loss of words, but the look in the eyes of this really tall stranger was making her feel smaller than she was.

This was the first time he had turned to her since they entered the castle, she could see him clearer now. The lights in the halls brightened his appearance.

As the flames that lit up the hallways flickered, she could see the sparkle through his eyes. He had gorgeous eyes. He also had a black mole the size of a single mustard seed at the corner of his left eye, and that too seemed to be an additional beauty.

And she found herself wishing Lyle was like this man, she found herself thinking she wouldn't mind being strapped with this man.

No! She loved Lyle the way he was. Although he wasn't huge like this man, he was tall and fit.

"He is the prince after all. But we're here." He says, pointing at the door that was just some steps ahead of them.

Neriah tried to conjure a calm composed smile. But all she could force out was a face that made her look like she was holding something in.

He turned again, and she let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding.

There were two guards in front of the door, and they, like the others, bowed their heads as soon as they saw him. He is definitely a high ranking knight, she concluded.

He opened the door and nicely ushered her in. Reaching the inside of the room, Neriah pulled her cloak down from her head. Carefully, she looked around.

The place was dimly lit. There was just one candle on, and the low fire burning in the hearth. The room was almost as wide as hers. There was even a wide balcony, the door that led to the balcony was widely open, allowing little rays of moonlight to creep into the room.

It seemed like a normal room with everything that needed to be in it. Everything except the one who owned the room.

A cold breeze swept into the room from the balcony, and for some weird reasons, she felt the cold overwhelm her deep to her bones.

She suddenly turned around to look at the man, her heart suddenly giving different rhythms. All of fear and uncertainty.

He stood by the door, with his back pressed on it, hands crossed over his chest, and left leg crossed over the other.

The room wasn't too bright, but Neriah could tell that it wasn't the lack of light that made the room seem darker. It was the aura that the man before her was emitting.

That stalking look of a predator. In this case, she realized she was the prey. And the man with broad shoulders, and sinewed arms and legs was definitely the predator.

"Where's prince Barak?" she prayed in her head that she didn't stutter, that she didn't sound scared. She prayed in her head that he couldn't somehow read the uneasiness in her features. "I'm supposed to assist prince Barak, so where is he?" she demanded. And she could swear she saw a smirk on his face.

"You're supposed to work for prince Barak, yes." He uncrossed his legs and dropped his hands to his side. "But before you get to Prince Barak, I'd have to observe your working methods first." He lifted his back from the door and added, "it is protocol. You have to reach me before you reach Barak." He was moving closer to her.

It took all of her resolve not to stagger backwards as he slowly walked towards her.

"O-Oh, is that so. I didn't know that." She scolded herself in her head for stuttering.

"It's alright, you could not have known." He simply added, and now he was just a feet away from her. Her breath was cutting. Her hands were trembling. Hell, her entire body was trembling. Thank the goddess that the light was dim, he wouldn't notice her shivering.

At least that is what she thought.