Neither of them could sleep that night. When Amelyn was finally finished with expressing her deep passion for Otus, she lay on her back, gazing at the ceiling; Otus did the same, yet his eyes lay closed. After having his bottom lip begin bleeding due to the woman next to him, he yearned to pretend she wasn’t there. He yearned to wake up to find the entire day nothing more than a very long nightmare. However, with luck like his, this betrothal was as true as his left hand held before his face.
“Have you ever looked up at the stars and wondered if your destiny held more than what is in front of you?” asked Amelyn, breaking the much-needed slience.
Otus rolled his amber eyes underneath his eyelids. “No, Amelyn, I have not.”
She paused, and then …show more content…
How astounding it was that his younger brother could tolerate such wickedness and unpleasantness as marrying a stranger! Sometimes he secretly grew jealous of Kristos; the younger prince had everything an heir must possess, and yet some greater being than himself chose him to be born first.
Otus’s ears perked as his wife-to-be mentioned the words “Elemental Masters.” His eyes hot open and he shifted his head to view the Wollf girl. Her dark hair was spread across the pillows in a wild tangle. “What did you …show more content…
Otus darted his eyes away from her, his heart hardening with stone.
“It must’ve been difficult, Prince Otus,” she said, pulling the thick cotton blankets over her naked body. “I know parts of your story, and it upsets me greatly. I cannot imagine being hunted down by—”
“Is that what this is about?” he hissed coldly, sitting up. “You think my entire life is nothing but me hiding from my persecutors? Amelyn, you are sadly mistaken; it was not my persecutors I fled from, but rather people like you.” He added under his breath, “I can’t find it in my heart to love you.”
The dark-haired woman cowered away from his icy stare. Her eyes lowered to the cotton blankets she was wrapped in, every hint of passion fleeting away into nothingness. Yet Otus couldn’t care less. He swung his bare feet over the edge of the four-poster feather bed, his naked body revealing itself, and marched to his pile of flame-colored garments. Ever so quietly he put them on, the material scratching at his skin, and trod outside into the dark hallway. He left his wife-to-be alone in his warm chamber, preparing for the