Princess Gaia Percy stood on the starboard side deck of the large wooden vessel, staring out at the restless sea and its dark, midnight waters. Based upon the position of the moon, it was a trifle past Vespers. The ocean was choppy beneath the moonlight; the sea air was salty, cool, and crisp; and the overall effect was enchanting—and somewhat haunting.

Just like her future.

Tomorrow, she would arrive in Dragons Realm with Dario Dragona, the only son of Prince Dante Dragona, firstborn to King Demitri, and her new life would begin…such as it would be.

She fingered her long, deep-red braid and placed the heavy plait behind her shoulder, narrowing her pale blue eyes as she stared at a particularly turbulent wave. The crest was white and tempestuous; the swell was dotted with foam; and the trough was lined with dark shadows, not unlike her soul. As she felt the ethereal pull of the water, the tug against her heart, she couldn’t help but question how her life had come to this: How had her fate been so easily determined—and forever sealed—in an instant?

How had a princess of Lycania become a dragon’s menial property?

It was true, Dario Dragona had caught her eye several summers back, when she was only fourteen summers old—she was seventeen summers now—and she had flirted with the handsome, dashing prince because she couldn’t help it. But that was all it had been: a flirtation, a youthful romantic fantasy, the internal musings of an adolescent girl. She had never meant to catch Dario’s eye, or worse, to give an idea to her father, the king, Thaon Percy.

From what she understood of politics, King Thaon had usurped his brother’s throne, supplanted Gaia’s uncle Bayard, and she had never had a chance to know the displaced king. Following the infamous battle of Dracos Cove in the 175th year of the Dragonas’ Reign, the season of the diamond king, when the Lycanians had taken a beating, the people had turned on King Bayard and installed King Thaon instead, murdering Bayard in his palace by poisoning. Gaia had been born fourteen years later, during the notorious time of peace, a time when her father had a strong, albeit mysterious alliance with King Demitri’s eldest son, the heir to Castle Dragon’s throne. And nothing—absolutely nothing—meant more to the power-hungry King Thaon than solidifying and strengthening that alliance.

Alas, he had concluded that joining their families would be a certain way to ratify their coalition, and considering that Gaia was thought to be one of the most beautiful maidens in all of Lycania, he had offered her to Prince Dante as Dario’s bride.

There was one major problem…

Dragon princes didn’t marry typical human women, nor did they marry Lycanians. They took Sklavos Ahavi females as consorts, those who had been reared in the Keep—and thus taught to feed, serve, and wed the feral dragons—those rare, special females who could bear dragon-sons.

Gaia was not born with that ability.

However, upon further consideration, it was taken into account that the dragon princes—yea, including the ancient king—kept a harem of Blood Slaves, other female Ahavi who served a simpler purpose: They fed their masters upon demand, and they slaked their carnal needs in their beds at night. It was thought that King Demitri used them at will—as, perhaps, did Dante Dragona, in spite of his consort, Cassidy—that Prince Drake was beholden only to his Sklavos, Tatiana; and that Damian Dragona stayed close to Mina Louvet. What was done by Dario, Dante’s son, as well as Ari, Asher, and Azor Dragona—the children of Damian and Mina—was anybody’s guess. The same held true for Prince Drake’s five offspring: No one truly knew how they fed. Just the same, all agreed that dragons had multiple needs. They were savage, high-strung creatures, their cores imbued with fiery passions, and one woman could not possibly fulfill all a dragon’s needs.

And that had been enough for King Thaon.

As disgusting and vile as it was…

Gaia’s father had offered his only daughter, the beautiful princess of Lycania, to Dario Dragona, in deference to his father, Dante, to be kept—and used—as one of many: a mere Blood Slave who was not even an Ahavi, but could still be trained at the Keep to feed Dario’s inner fire and slake his every need. And he had only asked for three provisions. One, Gaia was to be elevated above the rest: While she could train at the Keep and learn from the governess, she was to live at Castle Warlochia with Dario and, more importantly, in the home of Prince Dante and Cassidy Bondeville. Two, she was not to be used or given to anyone other than Dante’s only son, and three, they were to feed her dragons’ blood to keep her youthful and extend her life, despite the fact that she was already near immortal.

From what Gaia had heard, both Prince Dante and his son, Dario, had refused the generous offering. In fact, the prince of Warlochia had gone so far as to insist there were unknown factors that would dissatisfy King Thaon—he would live to regret the gift—but King Thaon had remained persistent. At last, Dario had traveled across the restless sea to retrieve his royal prize.

“The air is cool; you should go inside.” Prince Dario’s deep, resonant voice played like ghostly notes on the wind behind her, and Gaia spun around on the deck, placing her hand over her heart.

“You startled me,” she gasped, and then she took in his stunning visage: By all the gods, he was as handsome as he was imposing, yet that didn’t change a thing. She still resented every part and parcel of this insidious arrangement, yet she was wise enough to play her required role…to do her duty. At this point, there was little getting around it. She lowered her heavy lashes and meekly bowed her head. “Do you have use of me this night, my prince?”

The words curdled in her gut.

He blanched and took a graceful step back. “Gaia…” It was all that he said, and it took her aback.

“Yes, milord?” she whispered, waiting for his instructions…or his brutal correction.

He simply shook his head. “You are not Ahavi, and you are born of royal birth. I don’t know that I will ever have use of you in the way your father intended.” He glanced over the ship’s railing, surveying the restless waves, and her heart swelled with cautious hope.

Was it possible?

Could it be?

Might this dragon have a kind or noble soul?

“Milord?” The question came out as a whisper.

He waved his imperial hand through the air and looked off into the distance. “At some point, my father—or the king—will select a group of Ahavi for myself and my royal cousins, those divined to be Sklavos by Willow, the witch, and he will proclaim an Autumn Mating. At that time, we will select our consorts, the females who will give us sons. To keep you…to use you…to discard you…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “You are too fine a jewel to be treated as common trash, Princess Gaia.”

Gaia gulped, and she began to fidget with her fingers, having to tell herself to keep her posture dignified. She linked her hands behind her back and slowly raised her chin. “Then what would you have me do?” Her belly trembled. “Do you not need to feed in order to reanimate your fire?” She lowered her voice. “Do you not need to…satisfy…your dragon’s carnal nature?”

She waited with bated breath as he chuckled: deep, low, and sonorous in his throat. “Ah, my beautiful princess; there are so many females I can choose from. Indeed, there isn’t a maiden in Dragons Realm who would deny me. No.” He spoke the last word with conviction. “I do not need to take from you.” He studied her features with the scrutiny of a hawk and met her seeking gaze head-on. “Princess Gaia, we live in interesting times. The Realm is flourishing, as is Lycania, in no small part due to our fathers’ alliance; in no small part due to backroom deals and secret whispers, things that would not sit well with the king of Castle Dragon. But—” He held up one finger. “These are the affairs of great men, no? These are the dealings of leaders. These are the ways of our kind. You, however, are an innocent soul.” He stepped forward and brushed his thumb along her delicate jaw, causing her to shiver. “You need not be the prostitute of a prince, simply because that prince has a prominent place in the line of succession.”

Gaia fought not to stagger sideways, and his touch left blazes of fire, fissures of heat, radiating along her skin.

“Yes, at some point, you will be trained at the Ahavi’s Keep,” he continued, staring into her pale blue eyes. “You will learn the ways of the dragon, the duties and obligations of the Ahavi, but until then, I will honor your father’s gift by keeping you at Castle Warlochia. And that is where the bargain ends. You will live in comfort and peace, sweet Gaia—you will not live as my whore.”

Gaia gasped, and her knees began to tremble. Unable to withstand his tender touch a moment longer, she drew back and turned her head to the side.

A single wet tear flowed from the corner of her eye, and Prince Dario reached out, once again, to brush it away with his thumb. “No tears, Princess Gaia. All is well.”

Transfixed by the moment—and all the prince had said—she finally found her voice: “Thank you, milord. I…I am at a loss for words.” She paused, but only for the span of a heartbeat. “You are truly a male of honor.”

He smiled faintly then, and his features were positively resplendent. “Oh, do not misunderstand,” he drawled. “Make no mistake, sweet princess, I am still a dragon…always a dragon…and I have spent many sleepless nights dreaming of your smile and envisioning your breathtaking, feline eyes as pale blue rivers that flow into mine. I have imagined your body trembling beneath me. But alas, I am my father’s son. And while he may have raised me to be a formidable beast, he did not raise me to be a monster.”