Summary:

‘I look forward to getting to know you more, husband-to-be.’ Ilya smirks, tongue wrapping around the last word with relish, a hand coming to trace the freckles dusted across his cheeks with a surprisingly delicate touch.

Shane smacks his hand away with a snort, tampering down the blush threatening to make itself known to instead snap out a frosty retort. ‘In your dreams.’

Except all Ilya, the Prince of Rozan, has to offer is a dark smile and wandering eyes. Shane can feel them burning through his clothes, his shoulders resisting the urge to curl inwards and shield himself from Ilya’s gaze.

‘Oh, but you already are. Am I not in yours, sweet prince?’

or: Shane, Crown Prince of Hollaith hates Prince Ilya of Rozan with a passion. So the idea of marrying him is his worst nightmare - right?