The rhythmic sound of Declan's breathing echoed in the room. Anastasia lay on her side, her gaze following every shadowed ridge, dip and curve of his powerful back, as if instilling them into her memory. Sighing, she closed her eyes and realized part of her was doing just that.
Words and images flashed behind her closed lids, making it impossible to keep them closed. Try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking...about every word she'd heard pass between Declan and his sister, about the scroll, the crystal, her mother and, most of all, Luthur's plan.
Declan may be the King, he may be smart and brave and strong, but she'd trained with Luthur, knew his strategy, knew he would never risk mounting an attack on the dragon mountain. With weather and sun complications, the mission was too risky
