Page 13 of The Prince's Curse

Her aunt was right. A bit of exercise would do her good. She hurriedto her cottage at the edge of the property to change into workout clothes, but the sight of her messy bed hit her like a slap.Her stomach churned at the memory of her dream.

Was Julian Alcott that beautiful in her other dreams? There was a roughness to his body, old scars and rugged muscle that painted him as a man from another time entirely. But his eyes had been warm, his touch so gentle.

It had to be her mind playing tricks on her. She knew who he was and what he had done. And if she was a witch trying to undermine her enemies from afar, making them seem gentle and loving was a good start.

So why had the dream felt so real?

A firm knock came at the door, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she squirmed into a pair of exercise pants. After swapping her shirt and shoving her feet into sneakers, she yanked the door open to findShea standing there. She recoiled, but he didn’t try to come in.

The deep crimson markings of Mina’s binding crept up from the collar of his t-shirt. Short sleeves revealed his brawny arms, marked from wrist to elbow in strange arcane symbols. Just like Kova’s.

He raised an eyebrow. “I heard you might need some extra training to take the edge off.”

“Not with you,” she snapped. “I’ll go for a run.”

She pointedly stepped past him, wishing that her pounding heart wouldn’t betray her.

His foot scuffed over the small patio as he followed. “I’ll join you. It would do me good, too. The mistress wants you at your peak, doesn’t she?”

“Did she—” She stopped abruptly. Whining like a little child felt like baring her throat to the old vampire. Had Mina or Lux really sent him to challenge her? Kova was one thing, but she didn’t trust Shea anywhere near her.

Turning abruptly, she sprang from her quick walk into a run for the edge of the property. He can’t hurt you, she reminded herself. He was under control, like Kova.

Wasn’t he?

His shadow bobbed alongside hers, and she pushed herself into a full run as they passed the tree line. Only the moonlight broke through the boughs, dropping pools of silver on the wet leaves.

Why was her aunt suddenly taking such risks? How many experiments was Lux planning to have running around the house?

And why was Julian fucking Alcott plaguing her dreams with that easy smile and those warm hands and?—

She screamed with surprise when the brawny vampire landed in her path, barely cutting away before slamming into him. In a blur, he was in front of her, blocking the path again, teeth bared. “Stop it!” she snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I told you I have orders to help train you,” he said with a grin.

“Go back inside. I don’t want you here,” she said, breaking away to a narrow path.

He leaped into her way, arms spread wide. “Funny, I guess they didn’t give you the strings, did they? Isn’t that interesting?”

“What?” she said.

He kicked the ground and swept his leg upward, sending a spray of leaves and dirt into her face, stinging at her eyes. A firm hand closed on her throat and shoved her back.

Before she could react, biting cold exploded from her chest. She hadn’t touched him, but he hurtled across the small clearing like he’d been hit by a truck. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he backed into a tree. A thick branch protruded from his chest, dripping dark red. The powerful scent of old vampire blood filled the air, telling her to run.

He swore, stared down at the blood-soaked branch, then looked back up at her like she’d done it. Black threads tangled across his face like seaweed, then retracted slowly and faded. “How did you… You’re not a witch. What did you do?”

Gripped with a strange mix of terror and exhilaration, she whirled on her heel and ran. There was a groan, another clipped curse, and then pounding feet that followed. First he was far behind, then closer. The smell of vampire blood hung thick in the air.

She wanted to shout for Kova, for someone to deal with this. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle one strange vampire, but that her world was becoming shaky and unrecognizable.

But with that strange, barely restrained vampire on her heels, she could think only of Julian. Would she be ready? When they came face to face, he wasn’t going to kiss her sweetly or make love to her as if she was something precious.

He was going to kill her.

And that meant she had to be ready. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself harder and faster. Still, Shea’s footsteps pounded like war drums, growing closer and closer until she burst from the tree line. She whirled and put up her hands. “Stop it,” she said sharply. “That’s enough.”

“Is the little dhampir girl tired already?” There was a cruel tilt to his smile, a sharp edge that always seemed to mark his features. “How do you expect to kill a vampire like Julian Alcott? You know he doesn’t have the witch holding a leash.”

---