Page 105 of The Night Prince

I touch something inside him. A hollow, endless ache fills me. It’s like falling down a hole that has no bottom. I hold on. He mutters something under his breath. It sounds like he’s counting. When I know I consume every inch of him, as he does me, I roll him off me. I snatch the pages from his loosening grip.

I let go of the bond, and I feel him retreating, fast. I can breathe again. The posts of the bed blur around me. I feel like the fever is coming for me as something wild floods my blood. I half stumble, half crawl, to the foot of his bed.

I unfold the parchment. I catch the wordsAnam-Cridech.

He is on top of me again. I try to fall down onto the pages to protect my prize, but he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls my back against his chest. “Don’t,”he whispers.

There’s a tempest inside me. I have the answer I’ve been searching for in my hand, and he’s going to take it from me. “I deserve the truth.”

“You don’t.”

He snatches the parchment from my hand. His chest bumps against the top of my head as he leans over me and tosses it into the fire. It lands on the logs, and the flames take it.

A soundless scream tears from my lungs. Whatever thin line of peace that has existed between us lately snaps. Red clouds my vision. My blood howls. Wildness rises inside me, and I can’t suppress it. I sink my teeth into his arm.

A low sound scrapes against his throat. His arm tightens against my torso.

“Fuck.” His voice is strained. “Easy, little rabbit.”

I snarl. Something takes over me and I bite harder. I don’t think I could let go if I wanted to. I want him to hurt like I hurt. I want to make him bleed.

“Aurora—”

I try to stop, but there’s something rabid inside me and it won’t let go. His breathing is ragged. His heartbeat thunders unsteadily in my ears. His knuckles brush my torso as he clenches his fist. He groans.

“If you break the skin, you’ll mark me. You don’t want to do that.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but panic floods me. This is not me. I’m not in control of myself. I can’t stop. I moan against his arm.

“Okay. I’ve got you.” He sends his emotions through the bond, a surge of them that I cannot decipher. They flood me. He’s everywhere. His ice cools my fire. My vision blurs, and when darkness rises, I let it take me.

I slump onto the bed, and Blake crashes down on top of me.

***

For a moment, I’m falling through darkness.

I land in a dimly lit room. There are grates near the ceiling, and moonlight seeps through. A musty scent lingers in the air. I think I’m underground.

Someone mutters under their breath behind me. They’re counting, I think. I turn. I stumble away and my back hits a workbench. Jars and scalpels rattle. Blake is strapped to a gurney in the middle of the room. He is shirtless, and covered in blood.

“Two... Four... Eight... Sixteen... Thirty-two... Sixty-four,”he mutters under his breath. Something lurches inside me. I used to recite my mother’s stories when the priest beat me. It took my mind off the pain, and stopped me from losing my mind. “Two-thousand and forty-eight... Four thousand and ninety—”

“Blake?”

His eyes jolt open. He frowns. “You shouldn’t be here, little rabbit.”

He wrenches his arms free. He pulls the strap from his neck, then his ankles. He slides off the gurney and prowls toward me.

“I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours.”

He grabs my arms and pushes.

The shadows rise and swallow us.

We hurtle through the darkness.

I land, and I’m somewhere else. My arms feel like they’re jerked from their sockets. There’s a rattle of chains. Metal bites into my wrists and my legs are wrapped around something. No. Someone.

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