Princess Jorlyn Hightower, sister of Alicent Hightower and daughter of Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King. A young spirit with a mind of her own, quite the opposite of her younger sister, if I'd say so. A mind of her own that had decided to st...
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Jorlyn's breath hitched as Daemon's lips pressed against hers, her initial shock giving way to a rush of heat that spread through her body.
She had imagined this moment countless times since that night, though she'd never admit it to him—or even herself.
Her hands found their way to his chest, instinctively gripping the fabric of his tunic as if to anchor herself to something solid, something real.
But as the kiss deepened, a flicker of doubt surged within her.
She knew what kind of man Daemon was—charming, yes, but dangerous, unpredictable.
A dragon in human form.
And yet, here she was, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, knowing full well that she could get burned.
Pulling away slightly, Jorlyn looked up into Daemon's eyes, searching for something—anything—that might make sense of the chaos inside her.
His gaze was dark, intense, filled with a hunger that mirrored her own, but there was something else there too.
A challenge.
As if he were daring her to admit the truth and give in to the pull between them.
"Is this what you wanted?" Daemon's voice was low, almost a growl, as he spoke, his fingers brushing against the side of her face. "To be consumed by this?"
Jorlyn hesitated the weight of his words sinking in.
She was no fool.
She knew that whatever this was between them, it was not love.
It was passion, lust, a dangerous game of power and desire.
But even as she recognized that the truth remained—she wanted it. She wanted him.
"What I want," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart, "is something you can't provide."
Daemon raised an eyebrow, his expression both amused and intrigued. "And what might that be, my lady?"
"Control," she replied, her tone laced with both defiance and vulnerability.
"Over myself, over my life. I will not be another pawn in anyone's game—not yours, not my father's, not anyone's."
For a moment, Daemon said nothing, simply studying her with those piercing eyes of his.
