Wolfless Luna
“My sister and I grew a whole patch of them back ho—"
“—Your favorite flower is a weed?” the prince asked, his eyebrow raised, and I felt the words leave my tongue before I could even think.
“They may be weeds to you, but to me they are a hearty, precious flower that is just as worthy as any other,” I snipped, and I saw Marcus’s eyes widen a bit. But the prince’s eyes nor demeanor didn’t waiver for a second despite my embarrassing emotional outburst.
“I’m not here for your stories, nurse,” the prince replied cooly. “And neither are you.”