Page 20 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

“Roaming the halls isn’t forbidden,” I state. That burst of relief has filled me with pulsing confidence and makes me feel bold. Arching an eyebrow, I give Draven a look full of challenge. “No one ever said that we’re not allowed to leave our rooms at night.”

“No.” He takes a step closer. “But that’s not what I meant.”

He moves until he is standing barely half a step in front of me. This close, I can almost feel the heat radiating from his skin. His intoxicating scent envelops me. Dark and mysterious, like night mist and embers. It makes my head spin.

While his intense eyes are locked firmly on mine, he flexes his right hand, as if he’s barely restraining himself from drawing his sword. I inhale softly to steady myself, but that only makes me breathe him in more, causing my head to spin yet again.

Draven holds my gaze with hard eyes. “What I mean is, you shouldn’t be in this tournament.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I spilled my drink on you,” I blurt out.

“Spilled?” A laugh rips from his lungs. With a wicked glint in his eyes, he advances on me again. “You threw it in my face.”

Since he’s both taller and more muscular than me, I’m forced to step back to avoid being mowed down by him. My back hits the stone wall behind me with a soft thud.

“It was a mistake,” I reply.

He adjusts his wings, spreading them wider, as he closes the final distance between us. Even though he’s not touching me, his powerful body and massive wings now block off any escape route and trap me completely against the wall.

“A mistake?” he echoes. “It looked very deliberate to me.”

Since there is no point in trying to further deny that, I instead just hold his gaze and repeat, “I’m sorry.”

Apologizing to a dragon shifter makes me want to vomit, but having Draven Ryat as an enemy is a really bad idea. If he decides to start interfering, my chances of winning the Atonement Trials are going to be very slim.

“It’s too late for apologies.” His eyes are as hard and unyielding as iron as he stares me down. “Do you know what I do to people who step out of line?”

A jolt shoots through me as he draws his fingers over my throat. The soft brush of his fingers against the sensitive skin on the side of my neck sends fire licking through my veins. The touch is gentle, but the implied threat is clear.

He braces his other hand on the wall next to my head and leans down until he’s so close that I can feel his breath against my lips.

“This is your last chance,” he warns. “Drop out of the Atonement Trials before the first test tomorrow.”

My heart beats erratically in my chest as I hold his gaze. “Or what?”

“Or you’re going to regret it.”

An absolutely insane burst of laughter rips from my throat, but I can’t stop it. Because I have just come to the crystal-clear conclusion that there is nothing that I can do or say to stop this man from hating me. I’m pretty sure that I could even get down on my knees and lick his boots and grovel for his forgiveness, and he would still never accept my apology. He hates me for humiliating him in front of everyone in that tavern, and he’s going to do whatever it takes to ruin my life. And there is nothing I can do to change that.

And for the first time in my life, I don’t even care. Because I despise him and everything he stands for too.

To my surprise, that realization is so liberating that I almost feel lightheaded. I don’t have to make myself less in front of him. I don’t have to be polite and self-sacrificing. Because he is going to hate me regardless of how I behave, and I don’t care if a ruthless enemy commander, and the biggest threat to our resistance, likes me anyway.

Another chuckle slips from my lips. This one is a lot more mocking.

“Oh?” I taunt with a sly grin. “You’ll make sure of that, huh?”

In a flash, his fingers go from lightly tracing my throat to gripping my jaw. The back of my head is now pressed against the wall, and with the firm hand right underneath my jaw, I can no longer open my mouth.

Draven leans down until his lips almost brush against mine. “Watch your mouth.”

My heart flips and then pounds against my ribs. But it’s not out of fear.

Tension crackles around us like lightning in the air.

“And do as I say.” He slides his hand down to rest around my throat instead. Firelight from the torch next to us flickers in his eyes as he stares me down. “Or you’re going to wish that I had killed you here in this corridor tonight.”

Before I can unscramble my brain and form a reply, he abruptly takes his hand off my throat. His wings flare before he tucks them in tighter and turns around.

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