From Sacrificial Lamb To His Queen

phin

er gown clung tightly to my curves, my pale skin glowing faintly in the f

al being, a juxtaposition of innocent allure an

his study. I had waited for what felt like hours, my senses sharp, until t

together in a slight frown, no doubt caught off guard. He likely knew the Dowager Duchess intend

calculated, tear-brightened shyness

rlisle Duchy-the pure-blooded Dragon-born warlord t

cial lakes, devoid of

ched scrutiny one might reserve

elf, I rose to my feet. "My Lord," I murmured, my voice ste

gned maidenly warmth, I was stunned to

f his household, he visited his legal wife, Lady Helena Montgomery, strictly on the new a

iculously ordered life. A Dragon-born of his caliber despised unnecessa

of Agatha Foster, the Dowager Duchess Corde

potent, crimson-hued fertility elixir-undoubtedly

had no heirs, a fact that had become th

concubines paraded those boys around the fortress like trophies. It had driven the Dowager Duchess to t

mmanded, letting out a faint, resigned

to his family's legacy. Having given his word, he would definitely clai

ze back to me. "Let us retire," he said flatly. He stood rigid a

to me. I stepped into his personal space, my hands moving nimbly and quietly according to strict cour

Keep. The other castle maids always whispered of his godlike beauty, an

sty of a true Dragon-born. Serving a man with such an imposing, breathtaking presence felt, in so

my own sheer gown. It slipped off my shoulders, pooling at my feet, leavi

gentle swell of my breasts and the delicate curves of my waist. In the dim light, I

y into his arms. But Gideon was no ordinary man. He cast a single, impassive g

ve, his large, calloused hand suddenly shot out. He grippe

his strong arm locked tightly around my

ath the shadows of the furs, my fingers quickly closed ar

den's cloth to Duchess Eleanor or Lady Helena Montgomery as proof of purity,

of the future Duke of Carlisle, I would never ag