She flexed her fingers. With minimal pressure, the claws pierced his skin. Red blood seeped up. She dragged her hand down, clawing through his flesh.
He sucked in his breath. When she was done, he lifted his arm and twisted to inspect her handiwork. A smile spread across his face.
“Did I do it right?”
“It is perfect,” he said.
Perfect was nice, but perfect was boring. She didn’t need perfection. Besides, they bickered too much to be perfect.
Honest. That felt more like them. They could be themselves with one another, as messy and vulnerable as they were, with no pretense.
She hadn’t expected anything that had happened in the last few months. Certainly not falling through a portal or finding love. The intensity of it shocked her, sometimes frightened her, but she never doubted the honesty of it.
Here, on this cliff at sunset, in the arms of her prince, was exactly where she was meant to be.
