Page 30 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

“Under normal, non-kidnapping circumstances, I’d go to the kitchen and get a snack. But you’ve made it clear that’s not an option. So I guess I’ll have to survive until the morning, Prince Einar. But don’t worry. You don’t need to concern yourself.”

It was a clear dismissal. She’d called me prince, but she carried herself like a queen. She held my stare, defiance in every line of her body.

An exquisite body. She was irresistible in dark jeans and another tight sweater. How many of the damn things had she brought with her? They were a menace. The heat in my veins sizzled into something else. Something so very, very dangerous.

“Fine,” I bit out, striding to the door before the fire could get too hot. “I won’t burden you with my concern.” I left, shutting the door behind me. And I shoved Harper from my thoughts as I stalked to my study with fire snaking through my limbs like lava.

Arlo had left an almost comical number of flasks in my desk drawers. I sat and uncorked one, draining it in three gulps. As the witch’s brew chased the fire, I bent my head and held back a scream.

Pain. It was forever useful as a distraction. It was also a faithful reminder of the consequences of letting myself think life could ever be different. Just one path lay open to me. I’d tread it for nearly a century. Straying from it was unthinkable. Too much depended on me staying the course.

Slowly, the burn faded. When I could lift my head without agony, I straightened. Whispers drifted from one of my bottom desk drawers. In the corner of my eye, the drawer emitted a faint glow. Ignoring it, I pulled a stack of papers toward me.

True to his word, Arlo had kept an eye on the Puget Sound Pack, and he’d left his findings for me to review. The news wasn’t good. As I read, my mood went from bad to worse. The Puget Sound wolves had chosen one of Rex Addington’s lieutenants as their replacement alpha—and the new boss was the same as the old boss.

In other words, a monumental asshole. But he was also a serious threat. I scanned Arlo’s intel even though I was familiar with the new alpha and his background. Armand Reverdin had been kicked out of his pack in France for savaging a human in a public park. Werewolves were almost universally violent, but they avoided drawing the attention of the human authorities. Most alphas understood that secrecy was the best-case scenario for supernaturals. Humanity had a long and bloody history of targeting and killing anyone deemed “other.”

I sat back in my chair, my gaze on the report. Reverdin was a conundrum. By all accounts, he was dangerous and volatile. Yet he’d served under Rex for close to ten years without attempting to challenge him. Now, the Frenchman had ascended to power.

The question was, what did he intend to do with it? I had to find out. I needed to know what made Armand Reverdin tick. What his secrets were, and how far he’d go to keep them.

I turned my gaze to the window, where the maze gleamed in the moonlight. My own secrets drifted in the air like ghosts. I already knew how far I’d go to protect the people who depended on me. Their identities had to stay hidden. For many, discretion was a matter of life and death.

But the problem was even bigger than that. If the humans found out what I was, it was only a matter of time before they discovered the rest of the supernatural world. The result would be apocalyptic. Maybe literally.

Those were the stakes. Orson Ward had no idea what kind of chaos and danger he threatened to unleash.

It would be easier to kill him.

The thought had drifted through my head plenty of times. It was what my brother would have done. Cyrus acted swiftly and mercilessly when it came to protecting our race.

I knew that better than anyone.

But I couldn’t kill Orson. Not now. Not after seeing Harper with that notebook. I wouldn’t take another parent away from her.

Deep in my chest, the fire reignited. As I opened my bottom drawer to withdraw a second flask, the Book of Crubeus glowed like a beacon. Its cover was a lighter red this time. At the edge of my vision, flowering vines spread down the leather.

Honeysuckle.

I grimaced as I reached into the drawer, bypassing the book and grabbing the flask. “Not very subtle, are you?” I murmured, avoiding looking at the book directly.

Whispers floated from the pages, the words just a touch too quiet to make out. For a moment, curiosity tugged hard. Maybe tonight would be the night all my reading paid off…

No. The fire burned too hot for reading.

I slammed the drawer shut. The moment the book was out of sight, the whispers fell silent. As I uncorked the flask and drank, Arlo’s voice rose in my memory.

“It’s been a while since you needed this many doses in such rapid succession.”

I tipped the flask back, letting the brew sear my throat. Arlo was wrong. The batches were weak, that was all. I’d have to speak to Adina.

But it could wait until tomorrow. Once Arlo returned, he could deal with Harper. He could deliver her meals and collect her laundry. He could find her new books to read. He could order her medication if she needed a refill. He could see to her needs. Someone had to.

It just couldn’t be me.

Chapter

Ten

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