Page 58 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

HARPER

Iwas too numb to struggle as Arlo carried me into the house. Behind us, a frazzled-looking Leander and Goliath herded the rest of the maze’s inhabitants into the hedges. Goliath cast me a final, sorrowful look over his shoulder before winking out of sight.

Arlo hurried across the kitchen and into the long hallway that led to the foyer.

“I can walk,” I said, pushing at his chest. The pungent scent of sulfur burned my nose. The wound Einar had given me stung from my elbow to my wrist, but I ignored the pain. “Put me down. Please.”

Arlo didn’t look at me as he shook his head. “Not until you’re safe.” He took the stairs two at a time, carrying me effortlessly. It was difficult to reconcile the hulking, muscular demon who held me with the reserved, slightly built man I’d come to know. His horns curled against his hair, which was the same chocolate brown. Traces of his usual features remained under his prominent brow ridge and sharp cheekbones. But there was no mistaking him for anything other than a powerful supernatural.

We reached my room, and he sat me on my feet next to the bed. “I’ll treat that wound, and then I need to see to Prince Einar.”

“What happened downstairs?” I asked, cradling my injured arm to my chest. “What did you mean when you said Einar is a rogue lycan?” Even as the question left my lips, I knew the answer. Einar’s transformation had been horrifying, his body seemingly trapped between two forms. When I ran to help him, he looked at me like he didn’t recognize me.

And then he’d slashed my arm open. Madness had danced in his eyes, and he’d roared like he wanted to do a lot more than rake his claws over my skin.

Arlo reached for me. “I need to check your injury.”

“It’s fine,” I said, pulling away. “Tell me what happened with Einar. No one has been honest with me since I got here. I deserve to know the truth.”

Arlo’s jaw tightened. Tension vibrated off him, but he gave a single nod. “Prince Einar lost control of his beast when he was a young man. It’s always a tragedy when a lycan goes rogue. Usually, family members notice, and they intervene before disaster strikes.”

Foreboding slid down my spine. “But that didn’t happen with Einar?”

“No,” Arlo murmured. “His Highness didn’t realize what was happening. Some lycans can appear lucid even after the madness takes them. But Prince Einar blacks out. On one occasion, he killed a servant and dragged the body back to his quarters. Other servants found the decomposing corpse a few weeks later.”

My gasp was loud in the bedroom. I pressed trembling fingers to my lips.

“That was ninety years ago,” Arlo said. “Prince Einar has never killed in cold blood again. Even so, memories in the supernatural world are long. Many believe King Cyrus made a mistake by permitting Prince Einar to live. If he were anyone else, Cyrus would have killed him.”

My heart pounded painfully. I couldn’t deny what I’d seen downstairs. But I also couldn’t dismiss the Einar who flirted with me over dinner and took me hiking. “Einar shelters supernaturals who need help,” I said. “He built the maze to keep them safe.”

“Yes,” Arlo said, sadness heavy in his voice. “Einar has a good heart. And he knows what it is to be an outcast. He understands how it feels to lose everything. But lycans who can’t control their beasts are dangerous. Prince Einar knows that too. He didn’t build the maze to keep the people of Draithmere safe from the outside world. The grounds are secure enough for that.” Arlo drew a deep breath. “Prince Einar built the maze to keep his people safe from him.”

My breath hitched. My interactions with Einar ran through my mind like a movie strip, beginning with my father’s office and ending with him clawing my arm downstairs.

“You left me alone with him,” I said, anger kindling. “You took the night off?—”

“I’m always a shout away. And Adina’s potion has kept the prince’s beast in check for decades. It’s not foolproof, but it allows him to live a somewhat normal life.”

Puzzle pieces fell into place. “The flasks,” I said. “He drinks from them to control his animal side?”

Arlo nodded. “Adina is the most accomplished potion master in the world. She takes risks others won’t. With a lot of experimentation, she’s been able to craft mixtures that allow Prince Einar to shift normally, making the full transformation from man to beast. That’s how your father was able to capture him on film. But the potion doesn’t work all the time, and the effects wear off eventually.” Arlo hesitated. “Adina thought perhaps…”

“Perhaps what?” I asked.

Arlo exhaled heavily. “The prince was taken with you from the moment he saw your photo. His attraction was obvious to all of us, and the two of you seemed drawn to each other despite your best efforts to stay apart. Adina theorized that love might help Prince Einar regain control of his beast. Fated mates are rare among lycans, but the histories tell of such matches occurring.”

My body went hot, then cold. An odd lump formed in my throat. “Einar doesn’t love me.” He’d never said it. And why would he? The moments we’d shared had been engineered by others.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Adina,” Arlo said softly, his tone at odds with his fierce appearance. “Witches can be fanciful. None of us meant to hurt you, but I fear that’s exactly what we’ve done.”

“By feeding me spiked tea and throwing me into Einar’s path?” I asked, bitterness welling. Arlo and I had laughed together. He’d treated me like a friend, not an experiment.

Arlo’s face fell. He stepped toward me, one claw-tipped hand extended. “You should let me look at your arm.”

I moved backward. “I said it’s fine. And you said you need to see to Einar. You should go do that.”

Silence fell. After a second, Arlo lowered his hand. “I’m sorry, Miss Ward. I know my words are meaningless at the moment. But I do mean them, and I hope you can forgive me for the part I played in this.” He went to the door and opened it. Pausing on the threshold, he looked at me over his shoulder. For a moment, I thought he’d say more. But with a final look of regret, he left.

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