Since his father was the head of the rebellion, Xaden has always been one of the marked ones. Someone to never trust, your mom and sister had always said.

You thought being bonded to him almost three years ago, would change everything in a bad way — But it didn’t.

You started seeing yourself differently. Labeled as frail and weak, too small to climb a dragon, Xaden helped you find your strength, something hidden inside you for too long.

Maybe that’s why people are afraid of you two. He’s Fen Riorson’s son, Duke of Tyrrendor, carrying 107 scars on his back. And you, bonded to two dragons, one of the best cadets. And now Duchess of Tyrrendor.

Yesterday still feels like a dream. Amidst the chaos and war, Xaden and you married. It was rushed but beautiful.

Xaden is kissing down from your sternum, his strong tanned arms wrapped loosely around your waist. Your body is sore from last night, the sheets tangled between both of your legs, cheeks flushed, hair a tousled mess. His touch now is a contrast to how rough he had handled you just some minutes ago.

“You sore, love?”, Xaden mumbles against your abdomen and you can barely get out a soft hum. He crooks his scarred brow at you before a smirk tugs at his lips.