Page 121 of The Night Prince

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her. It’s unrequited, I assure you. I did little to warm her to me when we first met. She is...” He bites his bottom lip, his face uncharacteristically serious. He looks almost like the prince he should be. “She is quite extraordinary.”

“Is that why you’re looking for the Heart of the Moon?”

He laughs. “Nothing escapes you, Sister.” He shrugs. “Yes, I’m looking for it. It wasn’t my primary reason for coming here, but I spoke to a tribe in the Snowlands who said it was sent here, years ago. Although they have a different name for it there. It translates to Blood of the Moon. I thought Ingrid might forgive me of my sins, if I found it.”

“The Blood of the Moon?”

“Yes.”

I bite my bottom lip. “And you decided to try and arrange a marriage between this extraordinary woman and the man I am...” The words die in my throat, and I shift on the boulder. I will return to Callum, and I’m going to fight for him, but he still wanted to end things between us. “The man Iwascourting. How brotherly of you.”

A dimple punctures his cheek. “What does it matter, little sister? Blake is your—”

“Don’t.” I push down the rise of panic. “How did you know about... about the bond?”

He pulls a face. “Aside from the fact it’s blatantly obvious?” He shrugs. “Every time you were both in the same room, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Be careful around him, though. He’s changed since I met him. Back then, there was...” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. There was something ‘off’ about him. He hides it now.”

I agree that he’s hiding something, yet I feel a little indignant on Blake’s behalf. “Perhaps that’s because you met him when he’d just been tortured, Philip.”

“Perhaps.” Philip lowers himself onto the ground by the boulder, and puts his pack down beneath him to use as a pillowbefore lying down. “Perhaps not.” He closes his eyes. A smile spreads across his lips.

“What?” I say.

“Father would be so displeased to know what has become of us.”

I lie down on the pine needles, and settle down for sleep. “Two half-wolves, each helping a different enemy kingdom. Yes, he would be, wouldn’t he?”

Philip laughs. “Good night, little sister.”

“Good night, Philip.”

***

I open my eyes. I’m no longer in the forest. The scent of pine is heady in the air. A fire crackles in a black iron fireplace adorned with books and a decanter of whisky. Blake’s chambers. The mattress creaks behind me, followed by a muffled moan.

I turn and freeze.

I’m in Blake’s dream. There is a version of me on my knees on his bed, framed by the bedposts and the dark silk curtains. I’m naked, and my skin glows like moonlight.

Blake kneels behind me. One of his hands is cupped between my parted thighs, the other roughly squeezes my breast. His teeth are at my throat, and he thrusts his fingers into me. The dream version of me moans and pushes back into him, and he groans.

My legs turn to liquid. I feel him. I feel him everywhere. He’s not touching the real version of me, yet pressure builds between my legs, and my core aches.

I need to get out of here. But I’m transfixed. It’s not just the fervent nature of Blake’s movements, when he’s usually so incontrol. It’s the glow of my skin, almost goddess-like, as if that is how he sees me.

He pushes me down onto the mattress, and I snap to my senses. I stagger back. My back hits something solid and warm. I spin around.

Blake—the real Blake—stands before me. His gaze is fixed on the bed, and his lips are slightly parted. I grab his shirt, and push him against the wall by the fireplace. “Stop it.”

His eyes flit to mine. Panicked. “I cannot.”

A female groan—my groan—fills the air, and I can’t breathe. The creaking gets louder, faster, drawing Blake’s attention. The bond trembles, and I feel the word that builds like a growl.Hunt.

I glance over my shoulder, and my breathing almost stops. He has me face down on the mattress, one hand on the nape of my neck to hold me down, the other grips my hip as he thrusts into me. The look on his face... goddess... the look on his face.

My chest is too tight. My blood is molten gold. I swing back toward him. “Blake. You can’t... you can’t think of me like this...”

I feel the moment he changes. He feels like he did in the chapel. Feral. Animal. Not himself. His eyes shift, then glow. “No one would know.”

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