“You are a stranger to me,” Soren said softly. “One I do not wish to know.”

Perhaps she could blame the sword’s Call to the power in her blood on her attraction to this man who obviously despised her. Or perhaps not. The years that had passed didn’t prevent her from remembering the way she’d felt about him when she was a girl. He’d been boyishly handsome then and princely to her Cinderella.

Now he was hardened and scarred and angry.

And, still, she yearned.

Her eyelids opened. She couldn’t hide from this meeting by closing her eyes. His gaze locked on hers and she was caught by the swirl of emotions behind the golden brown.

If there was only anger and distrust left between them, why did she want to touch his frowning face?