LAMIA

I slipped on my black spaghetti-strapped dress, decorated with red vine flowers, and a pair of short, black heels. The king had wanted us to dress semi-formally for a family dinner. I had just finished putting on mascara when Zane came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me flush against his chest.

He was looking dashing in a pair of black jeans and a light blue button-up, the color of the shirt making his eyes look even paler and his piercing giving ...