Page 98 of Princess Claimed

“Human.” She nods. “Yes. He wants to be turned, but we’re giving it time.” Her expression turns wistful, then she smiles as she turns toward me. “Tell me everything,” she says. “Everything beyond the obvious, of course.”

“What part is obvious?” I ask, aware my cheeks are flushing.

“For starters, that man is aptly named.” She grins. “He’s sm-moking hot.”

“He is quite attractive, isn’t he?” My insides warm to match my skin.

“And?” Her eyes widen.

“And I think I might be in love.” I raise my hand to my lips, shocked that I blurted it out. I’ve barely thought those words, at least when it comes to Flame.

“Oh!” Her eyes widen with surprise. “That’s amazing.” She pulls me into her arms, but then leans back. “But something’s wrong. Does he not feel the same?” She shakes her head and her lavender hair flies up around her. “Flame definitely feels some kind of way about you. The way he looks at you?” She whistles softly.

Happiness inflates my chest. “Do you think so? Really?”

“Totally.” She nods. “Tell me more. How did you meet? What’s going on? Who are these men he calls brothers? And what’s all this talk about demons?”

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

Phil

Istare at Crusher. “Okay. What’s your plan?”

“What makes you think I have one?” He turns away from me.

“Come on!” I shove him, but immediately regret it. “Sorry.”

Frowning, he nods.

Crusher does have a plan though. It’s written all over his face. Has been since Diederik left that bar.

As soon as he was gone, the two of us hightailed it underground, hoping to make it harder for the demon to track me, and then we took a circuitous route to one of Freetown’s armories in case Diederik did have us tailed.

“Did you notice anything strange about Diederik tonight?” Crusher asks as if reading my mind.

“Stranger than usual?” I roll my eyes. “Never trusted that guy.” Another twinge of pain hits me where that dagger stabbed me.

“Are you hurt?” Crusher asks.

I shake my head.

“Don’t lie, Phil. You grabbed your side in the bar, and just now you winced.”

I turn away. “It’s nothing.”

He shoves me. I crash into a rack of crossbows, and the top few clatter onto the stone floor.

Fists form at my side, but my anger isn’t really aimed at Crusher. I’ve never had an injury linger like this. Not since before I was turned.

“I still feel pain where that fucking dagger got me.”

“What?” Slamming my shoulder, Crusher pushes me back against the wall. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes swirl with a mix of fear and anger. Mostly anger. “How often do you feel it?”

I look down. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? Blade thinks that dagger marked you. Ongoing pain has got to mean something.”

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