Page 129 of The Night Prince

I shake my head. “You can give him my pain, my life, but he wants my soul,” I say. “He... he told me. Only I can give him that. Set me free, and I will go to him. I will tell him whatever you like. I will offer him my soul, in exchange for whatever debt you owe him.” I pray he thinks my heartbeat is racing because I’m afraid, not because I’m lying.

“He spoke to you?”

“Yes! He’ll be angry, if you harm me.”

I pray to both the goddesses of the sun and the moon that he will believe me. His forehead creases. His bright blue eyes glint in the torchlight. The cloaked man who brought me here whispers in his ear. The two step back to have a murmured conversation. The minutes stretch like empty chasms. Fear grips my heart, and the prickle of gazes on my body makes me want to disappear.

“Princess.” A rough, familiar voice. My heart jerks.

James is on his knees, tethered to the floor by the entrance of one of four corridors that cut through the stands. His wrists are bound, and there’s a metal collar around his neck.

“Your wolf.” His eyes shine, the beast behind them. “The wolf part of you will protect you from the worst of it.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

“You can. You fought my Àithne, back in the manor. You’re stronger than you look.”

Alexander strolls back toward me. He smiles, almost lovingly, at me. “Nice try, love. I know you’re afraid, but it must be this way.”

I’m falling. My stomach plummets, and darkness claims me. Philip is shouting something. Alexander steps back, and the man with the whip stands near me. I’m losing feeling in my hands, but I manage to clench my fists. I grit my teeth.

I cannot do this. I cannot—

James roars. He elbows the wolf to his side in the face, and there’s a crack as he breaks his nose. My eyes widen as I catch a flicker of blond hair, and a soiled yellow kilt. It’s Ian, the male from Lochlan’s clan. The two brawl, and the chained Wolves are knocked into one another. Shouting and snarling fillsthe air. Ryan tries to join in, and lands a hit on Ian, but quickly gets shoved back by James.

A female cry echoes around the amphitheater. The Wolves fall silent. James’s gaze snaps across the circle. Alexander has his fist in Claire’s hair. Her eyes are wild, furious, and a dagger is held to her throat.

She bares her teeth. “Get the fuck off me.”

“I will, if yourkingbehaves himself. Do I have your attention, Your Majesty?” Alexander mocks. A feral grin spreads across his face. “You will submit, or I will maim your mate, then throw her into the pit for my other special guest to play with.”

James’s steely gaze moves from Alexander to a trapdoor in the floor a few meters from where I’m bound. A hiss creeps through the cracks, and I suppress my whimper.The Dark Beast.We must be directly above its cell in the dungeons.

James releases Ian, and sinks back to his knees. Alexander throws Claire onto the floor. “Good boy.” He nods at the trapdoor before dropping into his stone throne. “If you survive, Aurora, love, I’ll open the door and you’ll meet her. Let’s begin.”

Philip’s eyes widen. A plea fills my lungs. Panic alights my soul. I jerk my head toward Alexander. “Wait—”

A crack fills the air and I’m jolted forward as a whip slices through my back. The burning pain comes a second later. Tears spring into my eyes. My fingers curl around the chains that bind me. The cuffs bite into my wrists. I take a deep, wheezing breath.

“Do it until she breaks,” says Alexander.

My skin splits like butter. I’m burning. Dying. I cannot breathe. I cannot see. There is only pain and blood. I’m shrieking, I think. My knees are weak, and my shoulders jerk intheir sockets. My fingers are numb as I clutch the chains. Tears stream down my face. I try to recite one of my mother’s stories, but the pain is too great. I cannot focus on anything but my body being broken.

Something rises, angry, within. A scream builds in my chest that needs to break free. What good is screaming? What good is crying? Dots dance before my eyes, and I’m floating above my body—watching the broken girl, covered in blood, in the center of the amphitheater. My vision darkens, and I don’t know if it’s my life leaking away, or if thatthingbeneath the arena is making the torches flicker.

I can watch no more. I can bear no more. I retreat into myself. I hide with the emotions and the wildness I have contained since I was a girl. I coat myself in armor. I turn myself to stone. I let my soul flicker and blink out.

Alexander roars. The noise stops; the onslaught stops. I’m limp, my hair sticking to my tear-stained face, my arms pulling out of their sockets. My back is on fire. Alexander storms toward me, grabs my face, and jerks my gaze to his. His red face blurs in front of me.

“Why aren’t you doing it, you stupid bitch?” He backhands me and my head snaps to one side. He grabs me again. “I know it’s you. It has to be you. Show me your power. Show me your fucking power or I’ll rip you apart—”

There’s a gurgling noise behind him, and he turns. A blade protrudes from the neck of one of the men guarding the exit. His hood has fallen, and blood dribbles from his mouth. It spills down his chin and puddles between his boots. His eyes are wide. Shocked.

In a fluid movement, someone pulls the blade out, and he slumps to his knees before face-planting the floor.

Blake stands behind him.

His face... he is fury incarnate. His shirt is wet, plastered to his hard chest and torso, and a couple of dark curls stick to his forehead. His jaw is as sharp as the dagger in his fist. There’s a sword strapped to his back, and two more blades holstered in his belt.

---