Page 96 of Wild Bond

I felt another flare of that pesky jealousy at his statement but tried not to let it show in my voice as I asked, “Oh? And why does this absent princess intrigue you so much?”

“Because I know nothing about her.”

My brow pinched. “And that intrigues you because . . .”

His gaze returned to me. “Because in my line of work, I know something about everyone.”

I suppose from that perspective his interest would make sense. Considering his personality and occupation, it would be a rare person indeed who could subvert Rake’s attempts to learn more about them. Not many people could keep a secret from him. I relaxed some, my feathers a little less ruffled.

“Perhaps she has nothing to hide,” I mused. “And there is nothing to know.”

“Everyone has something to hide,” he argued.

I snorted in derision and tried not to glare up at him as I responded, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.”

His eyes narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I looked away again. “Never mind,” I mumbled, mentally kicking myself. Now was not the time to get into this.

Blessedly, the music ended, and I quickly stepped out of his arms.

His expression shifted. “Rin, what’s wrong?”

Feeling angry and confused and a little hurt and having a hard time making sense of it all, I knew I needed to get away for a moment. I needed to clear my head before I could talk to him rationally. I turned to walk away and collided with someone on the edge of the circle of spectators.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I began, but came up short when realized who it was. “Your Highness.”

Prince Pierce glared down his stiff nose at me. “Watch where you’re going,” he snarled. I swear even the white dragon at his feet sneered at me.

I felt Rake step up behind me, and I couldn't help but let my eyes drift to where Prince Pierce’s right hand rested at his side, the twined gold and silver ring clearly visible. I could just make out the hint of a symbol in the metal. Glancing back up, I wondered if I was looking at the man responsible for all the horrible things that had been happening recently.

I placed a hand on Rake’s arm behind me. I could feel him practically thrumming with anger and didn’t want him to react. It wasn’t worth it. I was surprised when Rake refrained from speaking; not to say I couldn’t still feel the years of palpable tension and animosity chilling the air between them as they glared at one another.

I stopped myself from apologizing again as Pierce moved away and released my hold on Rake. Then he grabbed my arm, holding me to him as he said from behind, “Come with me.”

His tone brooked no refusal, though he didn’t give me much choice with his hand still firmly grasping my upper arm, though not painfully.

As I let him escort me from the hall, I could feel eyes on us. I was past caring at this point, though. I was fuming at Rake, and my irritation with him only grew as he didn’t simply stop outside the hall doors as I expected, but dragged me down a corridor and up a flight of stairs that just seemed to keep going. When we finally alighted into another corridor, I was slightly breathless. “Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer, but instead pulled me to a door partway down the deserted corridor. He moved so fast I nearly tripped over my skirts.

Cursing, I yanked my arm from his grip. “Rake!” I hissed. “What—”

He interrupted me by opening the door and gesturing inside. “In,” he ordered.

Glaring at him, I cocked a hip and folded my arms defiantly. “Not until you tell me what in the Dark Realms we are doing up here and why you just dragged me from the banquet?”

“Do you really want to have this discussion in a hallway?” he challenged. Then he turned on his heel and strode inside.

I stood there for a moment, contemplating returning to the banquet on my own. Then I thought of descending down all those stairs again in this dress . . . and the assessing stares of all those people . . . and decided against it.

Releasing an exasperated huff, I turned and followed the infuriating man into the room. It was a large bedchamber, larger than the one I had been assigned, and complete with a big four poster bed, plush rugs covering the stone floors, and dark green drapes pulled closed over a large window against the far wall. Like everything here, the room appeared to have been carved directly out of the mountain itself.

A roaring fire cast a warm muted light onto everything. A sword and several other weapons were stored neatly beside the bed, and dark clothing hung in the open door of the armoire. This was Rake’s bedchamber. A small thrill went through me at the thought, but then I decided I didn’t care. I spun with my back to the room, too irritated with the man before me as he closed the door.

“Okay, Rake,” I snapped. “Why did you drag me up here?”

His face remained blank as he spoke. “Because I wanted a place where I could talk to you without fear of being overheard. Something is obviously bothering you, and we haven’t been able to talk since the trial.”

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