Rayna Elizabeth Payton was a timid, shy little girl once. Note that I said once. Growing up in the Royal family filled secrets and lies tends to cause you to mature faster than the rest of the world. And Rayna is no exception.
Being groomed to be Qu...
He was always around. Always at all the parties, all the birthdays, all social gatherings. The boy was even at funerals. Needless to say, he was forever in my life in some way or another.
We had been forced to grow up together, thanks to our demanding parents. A contract between the two Royal families that one day in the far future, he would become my husband and powerful King.
Neither of us had a desire for this transaction, to be honest. We wished to control our own lives as individuals. However, luck wasn't on our side so we had no choice but to comply to the rules of our mindless parents.
And as fate would have it, throughout the years the two of us found ourselves becoming strangely attracted to the other.
He had grown from a chubby cheeked little boy with adorable dimples, into a tall tanned green eyed teenager with those same adorable dimples. And from there he grew into a mature man almost just before he dropped off the face of the earth during the wreckage of our downfall.
He had been my first crush, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, and even my first time sexually. Yet with all those memories, one always stood out from the rest. One that haunted me day and night, a relentless cycle of torture that never ended.
The tight purple dress that clung to my curves like a vice was the dress I had chosen for our adventure of the night. An adventure that had led the two of us to become so intoxicated, that we had some how managed to stumble into his mansion without waking anyone.
Even though we no longer together, the one thing that bound us together for the rest of our lives had brought about quite the friendship between us. Sure we had the intimate moments flowing between the two of us, but like the adults we were becoming we had agreed that because of our unbreakable contract we should remain friends.
We were friends and here I was drunkenly dancing in front of him, my dress riding up my thighs from the seductive movements without a care in the world. He was lounged back on the white plush couch, arms spread wide and long curly head tossed carelessly back against the pillows. Those damn green eyes scanning my every move, pink plump lips pushing out drunken giggles behind me.
My dark locks had escaped it clip that had pinned the mess to my head, cascading around my as I tossed my head around without fear. Something he always like about me. I was a lady when I needed to be, but always myself around him. Wild and careless, forever his wild ray of sunshine.
Harry was three years older than myself. He had convinced me at thirteen that we should go ahead and consummate our marriage, because as he put it bluntly 'let's face it, we can't get out of it anyway'. Yet another alcohol infused adventure of ours, and in my tipsy state I had agreed to it.
Not that I regret it, because at least my husband had my virginity, even if we were young and reckless.
Back then his hair was just a wild carless curls tossed around his head like crashing waves. His eyes still those beautiful Jade orbs, shining with a little innocence. A few tattoos that littered his olive tone skin.
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