Page 139 of The Night Prince

He strolls to the door. “Good luck, little sister. Try not to get killed in my absence.” He winks before disappearing into the corridor. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. The thought makes me strangely sad, considering out past.

And then I’m alone in the small room, with nothing to keep me company but the sound of the sea crashing onto the rocks somewhere below and the shadows that dance along the stone walls. Every time the window rattles, I flinch, and the memory of the whip, and Alexander, and the serpent made of darkness slams into me.

I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now.

I can feel him. Blake. The thread that links us feels tighter, stronger, somehow. I think, if I follow it, it will lead me to him.

Get your hands off my mate.

I slide out of bed. My legs are a little shaky, and the skin on my back tingles, but I’m surprisingly well, considering what happened. When I slide my hand down the back of my shirt, I feel the ridge of one of my old scars between my shoulder blades, but no fresh wounds.

My legs are bare, but brown breeches are folded up at the end of the bed. Blake must have left them for me. I slip them on, alongside a pair of boots left by the wall. I creep through the door.

The torches along the walls aren’t lit, and there are no windows. Darkness is thick on my skin, yet I can see the stairwell with sturdy black bannisters at the end of the corridor. I think it’s my wolf sight. I think I may have finally broken the cage that was keeping my wildness locked within.

I head toward the stairwell, then down the stairs. The entrance hall looks like it might have been magnificent, once—it’s large, with an arched iron door and a chandelier that creaks as it sways on the high ceiling. My footsteps echo as I stride across the hall.

On either side of me, streams of rainwater run down the walls and puddle on the black flagstones. The scent of seaweed is strong, and black algae almost entirely coats the anchor that has been attached to the wall above the door.

It’s bitingly cold, but the temperature doesn’t cause me the discomfort it usually would. I have a feeling that if I turn left, I’ll find my way to Blake in the dungeons. Something compels me to walk in the opposite direction, toward the door.

It screeches as I push it open, then I slip out into the night. I find myself in a bleak courtyard within high fortified walls. It’s raining heavily, and my clothes immediately stick tomy body. Water rolls down my face, and I relish the feeling. It means I’m alive.

I head through tall iron gates, and I’m on the edge of a cliff with a path running down it. The waves crash against the rocks below. Ahead, there is nothing but perilous ocean.

It’s not until I look down that I realize why I came out here and what I had to see. There’s a circular stone building on an expanse of land that juts into the sea. One of the walls is crumbling. The amphitheater. The place where I thought I would die. The place where I finally let go and decided to fight.

A part of me wants to clamber down the path, cut through the rock, and make sure the serpent, the cloaked men, and Alexander are really gone. As I look, though, I notice thick smoke, darker than the night, pluming from its roof. A gust of wind brings the scent of fire and rancid burning meat.

“Oh, fuck off, James!” An irritated female voice is carried by the wind, along with the sound of boots thudding over wet stone. I turn to the path. “What do you want me to say? Am I supposed to thank you for coming to die with me?”

“Aye. That would be a start, you ungrateful—” The roar of the sea drowns out whatever insult James hurls at Claire. “I saved your life.”

“That’s what you were doing when you were chained and on your knees, was it? Aurora saved my life, you eejit. You did your usual fuck all.”

“Aye? Wellyousaved my life, Claire. That acolyte was about to decapitate me. Remember that? Scared you were going to lose me?”

“Please. I was killing a southerner. It had nothing to do with you.”

James laughs. “Keep telling yourself that, lass. You—”

He strides onto the clifftop twenty feet or so away from me, and his head abruptly snaps in my direction. He’s wearing a drenched black shirt that clings to his muscles, and his kilt is stained with blood. He carries a torch and the flame struggles to stay lit as it fights the elements. Ash and grime coats his face, and my nose twitches at the odor of death that clings to him.

Claire clambers up beside him a moment later, slightly breathless. “Move, will you?” She barges into his shoulder. “Do you want to stop in a more inconvenient—”

Her mouth shuts as she follows James’s gaze. Her hair clings to her cheeks, and she’s just as grimy as James. There’s a dying torch in one of her hands, too. She dips her head in my direction, then walks toward the tall iron gates behind me. “I’m done. I’m going to see if that southern bastard has any decent whisky in this shithole of a castle. Unlikely.”

“Aye. I’ll be with you in a minute,” says James. He doesn’t move his eyes away from me.

“That wasn’t an invitation.” Claire disappears into the courtyard, and James shakes his head as he strolls toward me.

I straighten. I can’t tell whether or not he’s a threat. He’s my enemy, yet the memory of him falling to his knees before me flashes through my mind. He’s not looking at me with deference now. There’s more of a wry amusement in his eyes.

“Look who’s awake. I’m surprised you’re out here, alone,” he says. He stands beside me, and nods at the amphitheater in the distance. “We burned it. Blake insisted. He’s always struggled with his wolf, and whatever you did to him in there... well, he’s been pretty intolerable since. Did my brother ever tell you about resource guarding?”

Wolves guard things of value to them.Blake told me that. “What do you want, James?”

He releases a dark chuckle, then swipes a hand over his stubble. “Simple things, I assure you. The same thing I wanted when I was in the kennels down there. To be drunk, warm, and well fucked. You’ve nothing to fear from me, lass. We may be enemies, but you’ve got the blood of my goddess in your veins. I won’t hurt you. If my people discover who you are...” He shakes his head, and strands of brown hair stick to his cheeks. “My kingdom will tear itself apart to gain possession of you. I'll keep my mouth shut. You have my word.”

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