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Chapter Five

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Chapter Five

           CHRISTIAN. CHRISTIAN FAOLAN. KING OF CRESCENT. THE NORTHERN KING. Stunned, my memories take me back to that night. flashes and glimpses of what had occurred and yet all I could remember were those startling silver eyes. They were like the moon, bright and vibrant, yet they were haunting as he stared down at me. I took another step back, drinking his tall frame in. He was astoundingly large, broad shoulders, large arms and legs, a figure that looked as scary in person as he would in his beast form.

He pinched his dark brows together, waiting for me to say something, but I was in awe with his perfectly symmetrical face. His jaw was strong and sharp: I was sure if I drew my finger down the length of it I would spill some blood. He sported an aquiline nose that complimented his full lips, plump and rosy. Brown locks tousled past his ears, tucked behind, combed to have a rippling quality.

The Crescent King started speaking but I wasn't registering his words, noting how he loomed over me in all his flawless complexion. The tunic he wore was like a tuxedo, with long sleeves, silver embroidery against the fine material. The collar brushed his neck and I noticed several black inks against his skin. The waistcoat underneath had the same embroidery design, buttons made from silver. Everything he wore was black but against his warm skin, it looked like the night sky.

He was immaculate. The corner of his lips tugged too quickly but I knew he was amused at my breakdown. Then realisation dawned upon me. He saved me that night. I met him that night. I was waiting for him all evening and I didn't even know it.

"King Christian of Crescent," I said, very slowly, trying to digest this information. He arched his brow as I forced myself to not quiver in his presence. I would never show my fear. "May I ask why you here? Are you here to kill me?"

His brows rose and then he chuckled, a sound I wanted to hear again. "No. Quite the opposite."

My mind refused to cooperate with me as I narrowed my gaze, gripping the cake knife. For a second, I was sure he looked hesitant but it passed and indifference took its place as he tucked a hand into his pocket.

"I can imagine it being quite the day, my Queen. We shall talk some other time. I just wanted to come to congratulate you."

"You don't dismiss me," I scoffed. "I'm not one of your subjects. If there is something you want then we can talk about it now."

"With that knife in your hand?" When his gaze dropped to my only weapon, so did mine. "I think not. You look like you're ready to kill me."

"I'm always ready," I retorted, unable to stop myself.

I really should stop. This was the terrifying Northern King that had people think twice before stepping foot into Crescent. This was the King that slaughtered millions during the Great War. This was the King that gave people nightmares. So, I really should have stopped. But instead, I lifted my head in defiance and levelled my gaze.

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