Page 36 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

For a moment, relief replaced the pain and fire. With the last of my voice, I gave a final command.

“Get the chains.”

Chapter

Twelve

HARPER

Knocking woke me from yet another night of restless sleep. Blinking, I sat up and gazed around the shadowy bedroom. Through the sitting room’s windows, the predawn sky was tinged with pink.

The events of the previous night rushed back, and my throat went dry as I swung my gaze back to the door. Oh god, what if Einar was on the other side of it?

Embarrassment curdled my stomach. How was I ever going to look him in the eye again? Although, maybe that had been Einar’s intention all along. He’d witnessed me at my most vulnerable. Maybe he’d scooped me from the kitchen floor and carried me to bed on purpose, knowing I’d hide in my room for the remainder of my stay at Draithmere. Hell, he might have orchestrated the whole scene with the centaurs. Set me up to get blindsided by lust so powerful I would have done anything to assuage it.

It was a devious thing to do. Smart, but devious.

The knock rang out again. “Miss Ward?” Arlo called through the door. “I apologize for waking you so early.”

Relief swirled through me, along with another dollop of embarrassment. Arlo was no fool. Even if Einar hadn’t shared what happened in my bedroom, the steward had almost certainly filled in the blanks. But Arlo had been a gentleman about the ordeal. He’d delivered my dinner later than usual last night, explaining he’d been tied up with “estate accounting issues” that left him scrambling to throw together a quick and easy meal. It was a plausible enough excuse, but we both knew he was just being polite by ignoring the incident with the centaurs. By some unspoken agreement, neither of us mentioned the scene in the kitchen, and I’d grabbed the food and practically shut the door in Arlo’s face.

“Miss Ward?”

I cleared my throat. “It’s all right.”

A pause. Then, “Could you open the door? I have a proposal for you.”

I sat up straighter. A proposal? For a second, I contemplated shouting the question through the door. But Arlo’s knocking was just a formality. If he truly wanted to enter, I had a feeling nothing could stop him.

“Just a minute,” I called, sliding from bed. I threw on the first clothes I could find, then opened the door.

“Good morning,” Arlo said. In dress pants and a gleaming white oxford, he looked like he just stepped out of a corporate board meeting. His expression brightened as he looked past me. “Oh good, you ate the grilled cheese.”

I turned, following his gaze to the table where I’d left the dinner tray.

“I hope it wasn’t cold,” Arlo added.

“It wasn’t,” I said, turning back to him. “And even if it had been, I’ve been a college student for four years. I’ve eaten my share of cold grilled cheese.”

Arlo offered one of his shy smiles. “It’s hard to imagine a famous food critic’s daughter settling for bad sandwiches.”

Memories of Mom stirred, and a smile tugged at my lips. “My mother loved comfort food. One of her favorite diners served cottage fries smothered in ranch dressing, cheese, and bacon bits.”

A look of mild horror crossed Arlo’s features. “Ranch dressing? Miss Ward, there’s no need to be vulgar.”

My smile turned to laughter. “I know it sounds gross, but the flavor combination was magic. That diner had a line out the door at lunchtime.”

Arlo tilted his head. “Do you think you could make those fries for me?”

“Right now?” I couldn’t help looking over his shoulder to the hallway behind him, part of me expecting Einar to appear like a vengeful god.

“Prince Einar isn’t here,” Arlo said, clearly reading my expression. “He’ll be away from Draithmere for several days while he attends to business.”

A hollow feeling settled over me. Einar was gone? I was human leverage—his primary method for forcing my father’s compliance. Einar had signed a contract to keep me. And now he just…left?

“Is everything all right, Miss Ward?”

I jolted. Arlo stared at me with soft brown eyes.

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