Page 53 of The Prince of Power

There is noBook of Shadows. He made it all up so that I’d show up here and he could scare me with this theatrical?—

My breath catches. He saunters in my direction, stopping only a foot away. His gaze drifts down my body before rising up to meet my eyes. “Is that what you wear to bed, little doll?”

My cheeks heat. I almost forgot what I was wearing.

Why, oh why, did I have to put on the Daisy Duck pajamas I got in Disneyland years ago?

After everything that had happened today, I couldn’t stand the idea of wearing one of the slinky nightgowns Coraline had ordered for me. It doesn’t matter that they’re sinfully comfortable. They were bought to suit this monster’s taste.

“Yes,” I say. “The castle is cold at night.”

He tilts his head. “Are you cold now?”

“Yes.”

Damian crouches slightly and sets the candle on the nearest table. The golden light flickers over his tall form.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he unfastens his robe. The heavy fabric slides from his shoulders, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black silk boxers.

My breath stalls in my lungs.

His shoulders are broad, his waist narrow. The candlelight gilds the sharp lines of his muscles, the sculpted plains of his stomach disappearing into the waistband of his boxers.

I think he really is the Devil. No one could be this beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

He takes a step closer. The heat from his skin radiates toward me. “Put this on.”

I force my hands to move, clutching the thick fabric as I slip my arms into the sleeves. It smells like him—like something deep and smoky.

“Aren’tyoucold?” I ask.

Damian’s lips curve slightly. “No. What are you doing here, little doll?”

My teeth clench. “You know exactly what I’m doing. You set me up.”

“Did I?” His voice is strained. Is he holding back laughter? “How?”

I raise my chin. “You know I’m looking for the nonexistentBook of Shadows.”

When his face remains cold, I scoff. “Book of Shadows. What a stupid name. I should have seen it coming.”

He’s close enough now that I can feel his breath against my skin. “I don’t need to set you up, Ava. I don’t need to play games. You belong to me.”

I snort. “You don’tneedto play games, but you like doing it all the same.”

A spark lights in his eyes. “Then let’s play one.”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll play a game right now.” He closes the distance between us. “You want to learn about Thornecroft. And I…” His gaze drags down my body. “Well, I want something else. So here’s the game. You ask a question. If I give you a real answer—something other than ‘no’—you take off a piece of clothing.”

Heat rushes up my neck. “Damian, I’m wearing four things total.”

He shrugs.

“Wait!” I point to my feet. “I have socks on. I’m counting them.”

His grin widens. “Ask a question.”

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