Page 17 of Dark Prince's Captive

“Aruan,” she says, her melodic voice sweet and filled with love.“I’m glad you’ve come.”

Gaia got here a good few minutes before I did.My mother had enough time to summon my father to support—or rather, to protect—her, yet she didn’t.

Because she’s guilty.

Because she did it.

I take in her youthful complexion and soft, dove-gray eyes.Her jet-black hair doesn’t sport a single white streak.She looks the same age as my sister, yet she’s decades older than I am.For that reason alone, I owe her respect, but I can’t respect the woman who birthed me only to doom me to an unthinkable fate.

“I know why you’re here,” she says, her long silver skirt, embroidered with pearls, swishing as she walks so gracefully toward me it seems as if she’s floating.

I don’t bother softening my tone.“You lied to me.”

“My son.”She reaches out to cup my cheek, but I pull away, making her flinch at the rejection.

“You told me she was dead.”

“My son,” she says again, this time in protest.“I don’t know what happened.All I can tell you is that I had nothing to do with it.”

I clench my fingers so hard my knuckles crack.Whatever my mother sees on my face makes her backtrack a few steps.The fury rises until it’s pulsing in every corner of my being and my whole body is one big vibrating mass.The slavers had her.They beat her.They were about to?—

The thousand-year-old pink-stained window at my mother’s back explodes, colorful shards flying outward.The sharp tinkling of breaking fragments lingers in the room with a disconcerting echo.An unsuspecting bijou dragon that hunts on this side of the palace utters an ear-splitting screech and dives through the air, flapping its wings to escape the torrent of broken glass.

The eastern wind grabs the opportunity to rush inside like a greedy, invisible spirit, knocking priceless figurines off the stone slab of my mother’s table beneath the window.

The freshness of the morning is gone.The midday heat and the musky, intoxicating smell of the poisonous lilies that bloom on the balcony.

My mother and I face each other from opposite sides as my anger pulses around us.She stands perfectly still, unmoved by the violence and destruction, but her rosy cheeks have lost their color.

I’m a bit disturbed as well.I haven’t allowed my power to get out of hand like this since the Incident.

It must be my mate, the effect she has on me.The self-control I’ve developed over the years seems to be slipping.

I push my discomfort aside and smile at my mother.It’s a cold, mocking gesture, reflecting the bitter betrayal and disillusionment that smolder in my gut like red-hot coals.“Shall I summon Kian to shed light on the truth?”

My mother stares at me, aghast but not surprised.I’ll do what I must, even if it means using her own offspring against her.

She raises a slender, graceful hand.“You’re making a mistake.”

My smile turns vicious.“It’s not I who made the mistake, Mother.”

I still as something stirs in my chest.Awareness surfaces from unconsciousness, and it’s scared.

She’s awake.

The pull on my heart is immediate and undeniable.Her fear is worse than being pierced by a blade.

I turn on my heel instantly, just in time to see my cousins, aunts, and uncles scurry like insects behind the protection of the thick walls where they were listening.Their fear is palpable, following me like an offensive smell to the doorway.

“Aruan,” my mother says to my back with a plea in her voice.“At least let me meet her.”

I pause to flash her a sardonic grin.“Oh, you will, sooner than you think.Order preparations for a banquet.The court will meet my mate.”I add in a menacing tone, “Tonight.”

Worry lines crease her smooth face.“It’s too soon.This is a mistake, my son.Give her time to settle in.”

“I’ve waited my whole life,” I bite out.

As my rage materializes again, a fissure appears in the roof of the cavern, and a crystal goblet explodes on the ornate stone table where exotic fruit and honey wine are conveniently set out for the queen’s unending queue of morning guests.

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