I saw him the moment he stepped in.

It was impossible not to, of course, since he was enormous, but still, it was like a magnetic force.

Huge.

He was huge. Like, too big to be a real human huge. Dark, brooding, and kind of scary looking to be honest. Dark eyes, furrowed brow, strong, clenched jaw, broad shoulders, and a barrel of a chest.

And yet, as scary and dark and storm-cloudy as he was, there was something that just drew me to him. I couldn’t look away. He was gorgeous, in this broken, tragic way, even if the longer I looked the more I knew how much I should look away.

“And what’s got your eyes?”

I started, quickly looking away. “Nothing.”

Ilana smirked and glanced at Imogen and our friend Adele — Princess White, and vaguely a cousin by marriage from the neighboring kingdom of Berne, who did the same.

“Right,” my sister said thinly. She snickered at Imogen and Adele again before she glanced over my shoulder. Her eyes suddenly wide.

“Oh my God, Isla! No.” She shook her head, her face white. “Were you seriously looking at Prince Logan Anders?”

Imogen’s jaw dropped, and Adele’s hands flew to her mouth as they both craned their necks to stare. I swallowed the heat from my face, as my eyes went as wide as theirs.

“That’s Prince Logan?!” I hissed.

They all three nodded, eyes wide and fearful.

Logan Anders, the dark prince of Torsund. The cursed one. They say magic isn’t real, but the rumors said differently. And if you believed them, Prince Logan had been cursed years back by some sort of witch or something. Four years ago, the man had been infamous in the kingdoms. Handsome, athletic, and a laundry list of bedroom scandals following him. But then something had happened, and he’d changed.

He’d grown darker, and pulled away from all social and public functions, retreating to his castle for the most part. No more golden smiles for the press, no more newspaper shots of him strutting across some tropical beach looking gorgeous. No more tabloid scandals involving some movie star or socialite.

The devastatingly handsome, beautiful prince had disappeared four years ago. But here he was standing in my father’s ballroom.

Darker.

Somewhat broken looking.

Fiercer.

I shivered as I thought of what the tabloids called him now. “The Beast.” Prone to rage and anger — prone to not controlling himself on the rare chances he was seen outside his castle.

I shivered again.

“Isla, seriously, why is he even here?” Adele asked, her face still whiter than usual, her teeth gnawing at her lip.

Slowly shaking my head, I turned back to look at him again, as if to solidify that he was actually here. I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes moving through the crowed…

And then I froze. I froze and I shivered, a little tremor rattling through my whole body.

…Because those eyes were locked right on me. Those fierce, glowing, animalistic eyes positively burned right through me, nailing me to the spot. I gasped, my heart jumping, and something wicked pulsing between my legs before I yanked my head back around, clutching at my gown as if to still my own hands.

What had that been?

I shivered at the illicit feeling I’d just had for this— this— beast of a man, and shook my head. Maybe I needed something to drink.

Imogen shook her had, answering for me. “Who knows why he’s here. Dad invited everyone I guess.”

“But he showed?”

They all glanced at each other before nervously glancing over my shoulders again.

“What's the big deal?”

I knew what the big deal was. I knew Prince Logan hadn’t been seen in at least a year and a half, and him standing at a courting ball was serious news.

But I still asked

Adele balked at me. “The big deal besides him going crazy and murdering everyone here?”

I laughed, nervously. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Ilana shook her head, her eyes worried. “Isla, he would—”

“I wouldn’t do what?”

I squeaked.

I actually squeaked, like a squirrel or something at the deep, resonating, gravelly baritone voice behind me. I whirled, and suddenly, everything else faded away. Because towering in front of me, was Prince Logan.

He enveloped me, this beast of a man easily two and half times my size. His sheer size had me shivering, towering above me like that. And those eyes — my goodness those eyes! I could feel the heat creep into my face. I could feel that naughty, totally inappropriate pulse again between my legs.

I swallowed thickly, my eyes locked on his.

“Tell me, Princess,” he growled, those eyes burning into mine. I gasped quietly as he reached down, a single thick finger tilting my chin up as his eyes captured mine.

“What wouldn’t I do?”