Page 74 of The Night Prince

Blake’s eyes glint in the slither of moonlight that creeps through the arched windows, as if he’s intrigued. My chest tightens, though, and I feel his pulse of wariness. Callum turns his head, and Blake shrugs, one arm over the back of his chair.

“Go on, then,” says Callum.

James turns his attention to the alpha of Lowfell. “You thought you were so fucking clever, didn’t you, Blake? You turned Callum, my own blood, against me. You talked me into asking for her hand in marriage. You thought if I knew Callum wanted her, I would want her more. Did you really think that taking something from my brother would please me?” He shakes his head. “No. I decided I wanted her in spite of that. Do you want to know what it was that actually pushed me into asking her to marry me?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” says Blake.

“It was you, Blake.” He huffs a dark laugh. “I’ve never seen you take interest in anyone in the whole time I’ve known you. Then I hear that you gave a Southlands lass your collar while Callum was assisting me in battle. Probably one of his games, I thought. Until I saw you dance with her on the night of the feast. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, could you? I thought, what is it about this lass that has captured the attention of the elusive Blake? And she has caught your attention, hasn’t she?”

I try to wrench my wrists apart, and the rope chafes. I’ve had enough of this. It needs to stop.

A dimple creases Blake’s cheek. “She’s the daughter of the Southlands king.”

“Fuck off, Blake. That’s not why. I had your chambers searched when you left. I found a very interesting book hidden away in there.” I still. Does James know that our lives are linked? “It was full of torture, removal of organs, experimentation on Wolves. It was all pretty grim, though I’d expect nothing less from you. There was something else within those pages that caught my attention, though. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

The smile remains on Blake’s face, but his shoulders tighten. “What is it you want me to do, James?”

James leans back in his chair. “Are you watching, Brother?”

Callum’s brow creases. “Aye.”

“Blake, I will let the princess go if you kiss her.”

Chapter Thirty

Blake’s laugh chills me as much as James’s request.

Blake, I will let the princess go if you kiss her.

“Is that what gets you off nowadays, James?” asks Blake, and a few of the alphas around the table snicker.

My blood roars in my ears. I can’t understand why he’s asking Blake to do this. Logically, it’s a small ask in exchange for my freedom. That is, if we can trust that James will keep his word. Yet my entire soul protests. I can’t quite understand the force of my protest.

Blake kissed me before, once, when Callum was dosed with wolfsbane and he was trying to provoke Callum’s wolf. It bothered me, then, but it didn’t make my soul feel as if it were aflame. Perhaps it’s because I know, this time, how much it will provoke Callum. I know Blake holds an inkling of attraction toward me, even if he pretends he does not. James must be trying to cause a rift between the two alphas, using me to do so, because they make a powerful alliance.

Or perhaps my feelings have nothing to do with Blake, and everything to do with James taking away my autonomy. Healready forced me to be a wolf, and now he has me tied to a stone column, and expects me to kiss a man against my will.

“I’m not kissing anyone.” I try to pull apart the rope that binds my wrists, and it pinches my skin. Duncan presses the point of his dagger into my chin. I sill.

“Settle down,” he says.

Everyone stares at me. Eight men, six of whom will probably revel in my humiliation. Callum looks like a statue carved of mountain stone. He’s pulled back his emotions, the way he does when he’s under threat. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Well?” says James.

“No.” Blake smiles, but his eyes are hard. “I’m not kissing Callum’s pet.”

James leans forward. “Why not?”

“You’re not a strategist, James. If you mean to create a rift between Callum and me, it won’t work.”

“You won’t kiss the lass, but you were happy enough to mark her and claim her as yours on the night of Oidhche Fhada?”

“So it seems.”

James addresses Callum. “His reluctance is interesting, isn’t it, Brother? It’s just a kiss. It’s not like I’m asking him to fuck her. He knows as well as I do that you’d get over it—given the circumstance. Particularly as it will likely save her life. What is it that he does not want us to see, I wonder?”

James gets up and strolls toward me. The marks I gave him are healing already, and the three lines on both of his cheekslook like faint scratches. Duncan pulls away the dagger and steps back.

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