He had to call it a “killing spree.” He flinched remembering the hurt that instantly flirted across Viri’s face. So much for being all cool and mysterious. He walked over the the bed, tossed his shirt off, and dropped onto the bed hard enough to break it. He flinched again. He should really remember to lay down more like a human and less like a tiger or this would be the third bed he’s broken this month. Calandria was nice and all, but she wasn’t likely to let him keep getting away with it.

He sighed and stared out the balcony doors at the moon. She seemed so much younger than he pictured. He shouldn’t be surprised because he was only 25 himself, but it was hard not to imagine a leader that seemed at least a little more put together than he was. He scowled at the moon. Of course, he’d be a guardian led by a toddler because the shame of being his father’s eldest failure wasn’t enough. Calandria spoke about this Viri like she was destined for heights even he wouldn’t reach as the White Tiger of the West, but all he saw was someone as tortured as he was, and he didn’t have any more room for anyone else’s mental shit. So, she’d had better at least be worth a damn on a battlefield or he’d have to find a way out of this whole “save the world” ordeal before it got too real.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He sighed again and rolled over to get some sleep. He saw her bright red hair glowing in the moonlight as soon as he closed his eyes. For a second, on that balcony, he felt a tug in his stomach like he’d follow her anywhere. Well, that tug could go fuck itself because as soon as the whole “be a guardian” deal was over, he’d be summoned to take his place as king, much to both his father’s and his own disappointment. Worthy, huh? Did he have the right to decide if she was when he damn sure wasn’t himself?