Page 72 of The Night Prince

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me, Princess,” says James, and Robert laughs. “But—”

I grab his face. The amusement drains from his eyes. A hissing sound fills the ballroom as his skin burns beneath my fingers, which I’d dowsed with my vial of wolfsbane. He grabs my wrists, and hurls me across the room. His roar reverberates off the high ceiling. I land, hard, on the cold tiles, the windknocked out of me. My elbow bangs hard against the floor, and I suppress my whimper.

There’s a loud bang, like the door slamming open, then uproar. Men shout. Chairs are scraped back as the alphas jump to their feet. “Tie her up,” snarls James. Through the chair legs, I see one man get thrown to the ground. Boots thud. A growl fills the space. I don’t know what’s happening, instincts take over. I need to escape.

I scramble to my knees.

James’s eyes shift as they lock onto mine. “Get back down.”He puts the force of his wolf behind his words. It’s like being knocked back by an avalanche. He is using the Àithne—the alpha’s command—on me. I grit my teeth and withstand it, before shoving it off. I get up and run.

Duncan grabs me under my arms and drags me to a column that supports the ceiling. He wrenches my arms around it and binds my wrists with rope. A male roar fills the air, but that wildness inside me wants release and I can’t focus on it. A scream builds inside me, hollow and endless.

A smooth laugh cuts through the chaos like a blade. I breathe in sharply.

Blake strolls toward the end of the table. His black shirt is stiff and buttoned up to the collar, though his dark hair is as unruly as usual. He drops into one of the seats, and throws his arm over the back. He winks at me.

My heart squeezes. Callum is behind him, and I realize what caused the uproar. They must have just arrived. He is carved out of rage and thunder. He has a foot on the neck of one of the alphas, who must have risen to greet him, while a blond man in a light-green tartan kilt holds a dagger to his throat. Callum barely seems to notice.

It strikes me how unpoised he looks in comparison to Blake. His cheeks are flushed, and his dark-blond hair windswept, like he rode fast to get here. There’s a tear on his shirt, and a streak of blood that I hope is not his. The wolf flares in his eyes as he stares at his brother.

“Touch her again, I dare you,” he growls.

I can practically sense his wolf pushing against his skin—wanting to claim, to protect, to kill.

“Callum,” I whisper.

“It’s going to be okay, Rory.” His voice is rough. “No one is going to hurt you.”

“We’ll see about that,” growls James.

A dimple punctures Blake’s face. “We’re here to negotiate the terms of your release, little rabbit.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

We’re here to negotiate the terms of your release, little rabbit.

Blake’s voice echoes around the derelict ballroom. I’m breathing hard, and the bindings pinch my wrists. I don’t want to negotiate. I want Callum to challenge James, and make him pay.

The alphas on their feet around the table look at me like I’m prey. Wolf eyes glint in the darkness. The man on his back, beneath Callum’s foot, gasps for breath and Callum pushes his boot down harder.

Only Blake seems calm, though I know him well enough to guess it’s an act. He sits back in his chair and straightens his collar. Beside him, Callum’s chest rises and falls deeply, and veins throb in his neck.

“Let her go,”he growls.

“No,” says James. There are three blistered lines down both of his cheeks where I attacked him. They look like claw marks. “Not until I’m finished with her.”

“If you touch her—”

“You’ll what? Defy me? Betray me? Attempt to lead an uprising against the throne?” James’s voice increases in volume. “It seems you’re already doing those things, brother. We are atwar.Our people are dying. And you see fit to set wolf against wolf, when our real enemies lie south of the border.” The alphas murmur in agreement. The man holding the dagger to Callum’s throat tightens his grip on the hilt, and his knuckles whiten. Callum doesn’t seem to notice. “When our real enemy ishere. You align yourself with the daughter of the conqueror who invades our lands, the prize of the lord who holds Claire in his kennels, the lass who was betrothed to the man who flayed our mother!”

The color drains from Callum’s face. He clenches his fists, as if he can hide his shock and pain. Regret swims through me.

I’d broken the news of her death to Callum, but I didn’t disclose my suspicions about how she was murdered, gleaned when James told me about the fur coat that had arrived addressed to his father. I’d wanted to spare him that pain.

I hate James for using this against him, as much as I hate him for what he has done to me.

Callum blinks a couple of times. “Rory is not our enemy.”

“Sit down, Brother.” The wolf disappears from James’s eyes. “You and I have a lot to discuss.” He nods at man who holds a blade to Callum’s throat. “Put that away, Hamish. You can all sit back down, too.”

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