Page 124 of The Night Prince

Male voices echo in the distance. I stumble to my feet. “Blake!”

He moves toward me, holds out his hands, bound in chains. I reach for him. My fingers slip through his and grasp only air. “Run.”

My eyes jolt open.

Philip is already on his feet, one hand on his sword, the other held out toward me. I grab it and let him pull me upright. The crunching of twigs surrounds us on all sides; the whispers of men twist with the rustling of leaves. Sweat and steel taint the forest-scented air.

“The horses are by the stream,” Philip whispers, voice urgent. “Ride west. I’ll kill—”

The air slices in two behind him. He shoves me back as his eyes widen. A thunk reverberates through the clearing as he staggers forward. He turns and flings one of his daggers between the trees. There’s a cry, then a thud, as he hits his target.

My heart plummets. There’s an arrow protruding from Philip’s calf. He pulls it out. “Go. I’ll follow.”

“Together. Come on.”

I grab his arm. He limps toward me just as something slices through the air once more. Philip takes me down with him as an arrow sinks into his side. His sword flies across the clearing. “Fuck.”

I try to drag him to his feet. Footsteps crunch toward us, and our gazes flick up.

A figure emerges from the shadow-drenched trees. Packed with muscle and dressed in a finely embroidered black coat with the Borderlands symbol—a star—etched upon its breast, Alexander smiles.

“Hello, love,” he says. My heart stills. Philip starts to push himself up, hand curling around his other dagger. “Down, pup.”Alexander’s eyes transform, blazing with the wolf he hides within.

Philip sinks to his knees and drops the dagger. A crease forms between his eyebrows, then his nostrils flare. “Aurora.Run—”

“Philip! What are you doing?” I demand.

“Quiet,” says Alexander.

Philip shuts his mouth. Panic writhes inside me.

I shake my head. “Philip. . . what. . .”

“I’m sorry.” His skin is pale. “I didn’t know. I swear it. I didn’t know. They had shifted. I thought it was Jack.”

My throat is tight as more men emerge from between the trees. “Alexander is your alpha,” I breathe in horror.

“You were pissed out of your mind, pup,” says Alexander. “I’m surprised you even remember getting bitten. We both sank our teeth into you. It seems I won the claim. Lucky me.” He throws shackles onto the floor before us, and his eyes shift. “Put these on your sister. We’re going to the Grey Keep.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

Silver cuffs bite into my wrists. My arm is wedged against the carriage door and one of Philip’s knees is pressed against mine. He is in shackles too. The scent of his blood hangs in the air and he groans when we hurtle over a bump in the road through the mountains.

“Our father will see you hang for this.” Philip’s voice is hoarse.

Alexander sits opposite, thighs parted. “Your father’s a cunt, and when I’ve achieved my goal, he’ll be dead. As will you.”

Waves of panic keep riding over me. I try to calm myself, but my breathing is fast, and my skin cold. This is too similar to what happened with Sebastian. I escaped that, yet I don’t think I’ll be so lucky this time.

How about you show me what else you learned while you were being a whore to that Highfell beast?

“What do you want with me?” I ask.

“Shh.” Alexander leans forward and takes my chin between his finger and thumb. My soul recoils. “Save your strength for later, my love.”

“Get your hands off me.” I spit in his face and jerk back.

Philip stiffens. Alexander merely drops his hand and laughs—a low, gravelly sound that sends a shiver down my spine. He leans back, wipes the saliva off with his fingers, then sucks them. Fear tightens in my chest, and Philip shifts slightly, as if he can put himself between us.

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