Page 126 of The Night Prince

“We’ve already met,” I say.

“Of course.” James rests his head back against the wall. “While you were planning your wee rebellion. How is that going for you, Princess? You’re here, and my brother isn’t, so I take it things didn’t work out between the two of you. Shame.”

I clench my teeth as my blood roars. “Your big plan was to rescue Claire, yet here you are, trapped in a cage alongside her. I take it your plans haven’t gone particularly well, either.”

Claire laughs.

To my surprise, James laughs, too. “No, they haven’t.”

I narrow my eyes. “You lack honor. You told me you’d let me stay in your kingdom if I killed Sebastian. I did as you asked, and you broke your promise.”

“I’m not sorry for it. I’d do it again.”

A snarl scrapes my throat, and the corner of James’s smug mouth twitches. “Callum should have killed you,” I say.

“He should have. My brother has always been too soft to do what needs to be done.”

“Mercy is not weakness,” I snap, aware that I’m somewhat contradicting myself.

“Then you must think highly of me for sparing my brother’s life.”

My spine is a rod. “Callum is stronger than you. He won the challenge and showedyoumercy. Just as he would have won the challenge between the two of you years ago, if he had not let you win.”

A muscle flexes in his jaw now, as if I’ve gotten beneath his skin, too. “No. I’m the dominant wolf. That’s always been the case. But I love my brother. I didn’t want to kill him for the sake of a southerner. Now, you have torn my kingdom apart.”

My fingers curl into fists. “You did that. Not me. I never did anything to provoke such ill feeling from you. I was never your enemy. That morning we met, I offered to help you and your kingdom. If you had kept your word, if you hadn’t sold meout to Sebastian, if you hadn’tattackedme, none of this would have happened!”

James growls. “You are wrong, Princess. You are my enemy. Your blood is my enemy’s blood. Your people are my enemy people. Since the time of the Elderwolf, you have ravaged our lands and taken from us. You have brought us war, and you tried to rule us, when all we ever wanted was peace. The moment I first laid eyes on you and smelt my brother all over you, I knew you were trouble. What did you expect me to do? Let you live? I knew it was only a matter of time before you left Callum and took our secrets to your people. You would have doomed us all.”

“You doomed yourself, you pig-headed fool! I did not intend on spilling your secrets to my father. I did not intend on leaving Callum.”

“Yet here you are, and where is he?” His raised voice echoes around the dungeons before he shakes his head. “It’s not your father I worry about. I scented Blake on you, too, that morning, and I knew exactly what it meant. Two southerners—one a half-wolf from the Borderlands who became alpha of one of the most feared clans in the Northlands, schemed his way onto my father’s council, and blatantly had designs on my throne, and the other the daughter of our enemy king. That, I thought, is not an alliance I want to contend with.”

“I have no alliance with Blake.”

“Of course you don’t...” He runs a hand over his jaw. “I showed my brother mercy. I did not kill him, even though I could have. But I made sure he saw what I did. I made sure he’d read the book I found in Blake’s chambers. Because I needed both of you out of Madadh-allaidh before you created any lasting damage, so that my brother could fight the war that your people started.”

“I’m glad you got what you wanted,” I spit.

“You think this is what I wanted?” He shakes his head. “I want to be drunk and warm with a lass in my bed. Thanks to you, I’m here. You were a threat to me then, Princess. You’re a threat to me—”

The torches that line the wall flicker and dim, one by one, and James shuts his mouth. The shadows thicken and I feel them—cold and restless—writhing like snakes over my body. A low rasping hiss travels down the corridor, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I think about the bit of shed skin that Blake picked up when we found ourselves in Night’s prison.

A hole is carved in my chest, and the darkness slithers up through my nostrils. That wild thing, deep within my soul, tries to break free.

I can’t afford to lose consciousness. Not here. Not now. I clench my fists. I dig my nails into my palms, drawing blood. I barely notice James’s grunt on one side of me and Claire’s body stiffening on the other.

The sound stops. The torches flicker back to life. I let out the darkness on a long breath that mists before my face. I turn to Claire.

“What was that?” I breathe, but I think I already know.

“We call it the Dark Beast,” says Claire.

“Night’s prisoner,” I whisper in horror.

James runs a hand along his jaw. “It’s what we’ve been brought here to fight.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

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