Page 122 of The Prince of Power

“I am your lord prior, Ava. And you’re guilty of two counts of treason. First, you promised to hide information from me.Second, you… You almost…” His eyelids flutter, as if he’s growing dizzy, but then his gaze snaps into focus. “You almost robbed me of my virgin sacrifice.”

I nod, my heart clenching for him.

I really scared him.

“The promise you made about Rhett.” My voice is tentative. “Was it?—”

I gasp when he takes me by the shoulders and gives me a little shake. “I’ll keep my promise. He’s out of Thornecroft, and I’ll never let you see him again. That’s the consequence of what you did. Do you understand?”

When my lips tremble, Damian bares his teeth. “Don’t you dare cry. And don’t mention his name to me ever again.”

“Damian.” My voice is just above a whisper. “I want you. Not Rhett. He’s the brother of my heart. He always has been.”

The storm in his eyes falters for a moment. But then, with a sharp breath, he sweeps me into his arms and turns toward the one man left. “I’ll take her.”

As we walk out into the hall. He squeezes me. “I don’t make idle threats. You will be spending your nights in the dungeon until the solstice ceremony.”

The dungeon stairs are steep, but his steps are steady, his grip protective even in his anger. My heart pounds as I cling to him, my head resting against his shoulder despite the ache in my chest.

He doesn’t speak until we reach the cell. He sets me down gently, his hands lingering on my arms for a brief moment before he steps back.

“Lock it,” he orders the guard, his voice devoid of emotion.

The clanging of the iron door reverberates through the space. Without another word, Damian turns and walks away, the echo of his footsteps fading into the darkness, leaving me alone in the silent cell.

38

Ava

Though the cell is cold, I’m not uncomfortable.

Damian has been sending things.

A guard brought me extra blankets first—two thick, woolen ones. Then, an hour later, I was sent a big plate of carne asada with warm tortillas that looked like they were made from scratch. Not the kind of food you’d expect for someone in a dungeon. Then, just before bed, chamomile tea in a delicate porcelain cup.

He’s still an attentive caregiver, even when he’s nearly bursting with rage.

And I know he is. Damian was failed by the people who were supposed to love him. Everything that transpired last night must have seemed like the deepest betrayal. Like I don’t care about him at all.

I ought to have told him I love him right before he brought me to the dungeons, but it wasn’t the right time.

Crazy that I’m here now. Loving a man who threatened one of my closest friends at gunpoint last night.

But I do love him. God help me, I do. He wasn’t going to kill Rhett, because I wasn’t going to let him. I have power—something I always thought should have nothing to do with love.

I’ve spent my whole life believing in the lie of moral purity. Believing that I’m good. But when had I ever been tested? When had I ever been asked to be anything else? My virtue was unearned.

I wasn’t pure. I lived in pure circumstances.

And Damian didn’t.

Footsteps sound on the stone floor. A moment later, my cell door creaks open. A guard steps in, his face blank. “Come with me.”

I let the blanket fall from my shoulders, and the chill bites at my skin. My legs are shaky as I stand, but I force myself to walk with purpose.

Somehow, I’ll get through to Damian.

I’ll show him that I love him. That I’m safe.

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