Page 9 of Married By Treachery

She did not like the mockery in his tone. “If it results inyourdeath and an end to Harran’s debt to your people, then yes.”

At this, he jerked their joined hands around the back of her neck and pulled her close so that she was practically lying on top of him. Raquel strained in his grip, against the blade at her throat, their breaths mixed between them.

His smelled sweet, she noticed. Like the blooming buds of spring.

“You mortals and your pathetic ideals.” In contrast to his breath, his tone held no sweetness at all. It was all winter and ice. “I’ve heard it a thousand times over, from a thousand different men, but each time your kind stares death in the face, you cower in fear. Every one of you. You do anything to avoid it. Betray your neighbor, your family. Because fear of dying is your greatest weakness and our greatest advantage over you.”

Raquel trembled with seven years of rage. “That is true for some, but it is not true for me.”

“Oh, and do you possess some rare power that evades the rest of your miserable kind?” he said derisively.

“I do, and so do others who are fortunate enough to find it,” Raquel answered without hesitation.

For a moment, he did not seem to breathe. “And whatpoweris that?”

“The power of love.”

He graced her with a deriding chuckle.

“You mock it, but love is the greatest power of all,” she persisted, conviction flying from her lips in passionate drops of spittle that (hopefully) landed upon his face. “It is greater than all the magik in the world, because love is boundless. It gives beyond all comprehension, stands beyond all reason, and it gives a strength of will thatyourmiserable kind can only dream of, if you dream at all. But I’m not surprised you didn’t factor this into your little equation, because your kind has no heart, and that isyourgreatest weakness andourgreatest advantage over you.”

One breath.

Two.

“You have given this an obscene amount of thought,” he mused.

“Every day of my life for the last seven years.”

“I might advise you find yourself a hobby.”

“Lucky for you, I did.”

Raquel had not been sitting idly while she’d been speaking. With the hand caught in his grasp, and in his momentary distraction listening to her speak, she had turned her wrist just enough, using his own grip to catch the small clasp at her wrist strap. As soon as she spoke that last word, she turned her wrist just so.

The small spring snapped, and the hidden blade stabbed into his palm.

The Bear Prince cursed in shock and in pain, his grip loosening, but it was all Raquel needed to twist away from him. However, she’d hardly made it off of the bed when he grabbed a fistful of her skirts and yanked her right back.

She yelped in surprise, twisting on the rebound, and slashed with her blade. He ducked to avoid being skewered, then barreled into her stomach like a battering ram, sending them both stumbling back to where Raquel slammed against the wall. The blade flew from her hand as she struck the wall with impressive force, knocking something—a portrait? —free of its support, and it crashed to the floor as Raquel reached for his…

“Where is all your hair!?” Raquel exclaimed.

The Bear Prince grabbed her hands and slammed them over her head, against the wall, the both of them heaving. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She was heaving with exertion, but his breath was perfectly and irritatingly even.

“And where areyourmanners, my bride?” he taunted.

“You speak ofmannerswhen you’ve murdered six innocent young women?” She tried to knee him in his Forest-man parts, but he easily twisted away.

“Six innocent…Ah, you mean the other mortal girls.”

“And you’ve already forgotten them!” She managed to rip a hand free and clap his ear.

He flinched back with a cry, which gave Raquel just enough space to slip out and under, away from him. However, he promptly grabbed her skirts and jerked her right back again.

“Blasted, useless heap of”—she started, and he pinned her to the wall—“fabric!”

To her annoyance, he’d fastened both of her wrists over her head with just one hand, using his body to keep her legs from flying at him while his free hand slipped beneath her neckline. She gasped in outrage. “Don’t you dare—”

---