Page 144 of The Night Prince

I clench the sheets. “You can’t hurt me because of the bond,” I remind him.

“That’s not the reason I won’t hurt you.”

“You’ve been working for Night.”

I wait for him to deny it. Iwanthim to deny it. “Yes.”

My breath catches. My soul splinters. My fear spikes. “The rumors that someone was trying to free Night and create him an army, they were about you. You’re the Night Prince.”

“Yes.”

My pulse is beating so quickly now, it drowns out the sound of anything else. Adrenaline surges through me.Run. Run. Run.

“Aurora, we don’t have time for this. Don’t—”

I lurch across the bed toward the door, and the bedsheets tangle around my thighs. The glass of water on my bedside table spills. He grabs me around the waist, and throws me back onto the mattress. I open my mouth to scream, but he pins me down and clamps his hand over my mouth. He climbs on top of me, and his thighs clench against my hips. His scent floods my senses. I grab his wrist and curl my fingers into his bone. I taste the salt of his palm.Bite, Bite. Bite.

“Don’t.”The wolf flashes in his eyes, feral and beautiful. “Listen.”

His essence floods me, dark and powerful and suffocating. It strokes and coaxes and is laden with such intense dominance that I almost whimper as I try to push it away. Something inside me wants to yield to it, to submit.

He is using the Àithne, like before, but fear cools my blood. He is more powerful than he was letting on the last time he did this. All this time, I thought it was Callum who was holding back with me. I see now it was Blake. Sweat beads on my brow. His words, spoken in his chambers at Madadh-allaidh,come back to haunt me.When the time comes, little rabbit, I will give you everything I have. I promise.

Is this it? Is this his glorious defeat?

“Stop fighting, Aurora. Listen.”

My own power rises to meet his. I reach deep inside of me and grab his shadowy fingers. His grip tightens, and I gasp as I’m held within his grip. Still, I think I could fight him off. As the telltale dots appear across my vision, and my breathing becomes rapid, I know that all I need do is let go.

I think he knows it, too. I think he’s giving me a reason to acquiesce to him, a way for me to pretend that he forced me into submitting to him. Because he knows my truth, even if I can’t stomach it.

I want to know what he has to say. I want to trust him. I want him to tell me this is a mistake, and that I wasn’t wrong to save his life.

So, that traitorous part of me stills. Obeys. Submits.

I pretend I don’t want to. I even let out a soft whimper against his palm. The corner of his lip twitches, as if he knows my game. I sink back into the sheets, and stop writhing beneath him. When I blink up at him, my body softens and becomes pliant.

His shoulders dip with relief.

“Are you going to scream?” he asks.

I shake my head, and he pulls away his palm.

“Good girl.”

I’m breathing fast. So is he.

“I’m going to tell you the truth, Aurora, and I need you to listen carefully, because I fear we don’t have much time. Are you listening?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Good. I’m not one of Night’s Acolytes. I’m not some fool who dresses in a dark cloak with a symbol inked onto my skin. I’m much worse than that. I’m one of Night’s prisoners, just like the serpent you killed, just like the monsters you have heard of. The prison I’ve pulled you to in my dreams, that was my home for a time. You’ve realized that, haven’t you?”

“The brand on your ankle,” I say.

“Yes. He brands all his prisoners with his mark. The acolytes copy it, as if they could ever know what it means.”

He leans back so he’s kneeling over me, and I can’t settle my unsteady heart or the beast that has awoken in my chest. I’m still gripping his wrist, I realize. For some reason, I don’t release him. His pulse thrums, agitated, beneath my fingertips.

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