Page 93 of The Night Prince

Philip tries to move his arms. There’s a squeak as he grips the arms of the chair with his leather-gloved hands. I’m convinced now he will start to panic. My brother has not endured a single hardship in all of his life.

I’m not going to let Blake hurt him, but I can still enjoy his fear.

Philip peers up at Blake. “Bondage? You’re not my usual type, but you’re pretty enough, I suppose.”

Blake leans against the workbench, and the small knife in his hand gleams. He flashes Philip a smile that most would cower from. My brother smiles back.

“Is your brother an eejit?” Callum’s tone is a mixture of irritation and genuine curiosity.

“He’s not a wise man,” I say.

Philip stares down his nose at Callum, as if he’s sitting on a throne rather than bound to a chair. “Perhaps you and I should speak in private. One future king to another.”

Anger erupts inside me. Isn’t that just typical of Philip? He’s arrived on a mission concerning me, yet it’s the highest-ranking male in the room who he wishes to have an audience with. Goddess forbid I have a say in my own future.

I grit my teeth. “He’s not the future king. Heisthe king.”

“Not for long, if the talk in the taverns is anything to go by.”

“What are you doing here, Philip?” I ask.

“I had every intention of telling you, little sister. I’ve been so ill-treated that now I shan’t.” He shakes his head. “I had heard the Northlands Wolves were inhospitable, but I’d not expected such a cold welcome.”

I step closer to him. He smells like ale. “This is not a game. Father is not here to save you, your title will not protect you, and you cannot pay your way out of this. You’re in the kingdom of Wolves, and you’re the prince of their enemy. You would be wise to show a little understanding of the seriousness of your situation.”

His eyes glint. “You’ve changed, Sister.”

“And you have not changed in the slightest,Brother.”

“You might be surprised.”

Blake drags a chair from the workbench and places it at an angle to Philip’s. He drops into it, and puts an arm over the back. From the ease of his movements, his bullet wound must be healed already.

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you, Blake,” says Philip.

A cold smile graces Blake’s lips. “As are you.”

I shouldn’t be surprised they know one another. Blake was part of the King’s Guard, so it’s probable they would have encountered one another.

“Where have you been?” asks Blake.

“I don’t see why I should tell you.”

Blake rests his ankle on his thigh. He absently twirls the small blade in his hand. “Do you think Aurora will save you?”

“I think that you answer to her, don’t you?”

Blake’s smile becomes feral. “If that were true, I’d be very worried about your current situation.”

Philip meets my eye. “She does this, you know. Bats her eyelids and wraps powerful men around her fingers. Plays the innocent princess to get them to give her whatever she wants.”

Outrage blooms inside me.

“Is that so?” Blake says.

When did Ieverget what I wanted? I want to tell him every bad thought I’ve ever had about him. I want to slap him across the face. The thought of snatching the blade from Blake and plunging it into his thigh is a strong one. My soul threatens to erupt.

I pull it all back. I cage my feelings, as if by having him here—a reminder of the palace—I’m regressing to an earlier version of myself. I hate that he makes me feel like a helpless, voiceless child once more.

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