Page 55 of The Prince of Power

I blink. “You mean… You’ll actually tell me the truth about his death if I phrase it differently?”

His eyes pop open, and his grin is almost feral. “Yes.”

And that’s when I recognize my blunder.

I just asked a question.

And now I have to remove my shirt.

Humiliation crawls up my skin like a trail of red ants, biting as they go, but I can’t back down. I knew the rules. Fair is fair.

His gaze grows hooded, and my face burns. I just have to do it quickly.

I grab the hem of my shirt and throw it over my head. My nipples harden immediately at the cold. Shame burns through me—hot, dizzying—and underneath it, a flicker of something electric.

Damian doesn’t speak. His eyes drag over me—utterly unhurried. He leans back on his heels, his tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek.

Then he exhales. “God, Ava.”

His voice is so full of awe that it makes my throat tighten. I never imagined anyone would look at me like that—least of all someone like him.

A man who summons people with the flick of his fingers.

The thought is sobering.

“Ok,” I say, turning around and grabbing my clothes from the floor.

A low, guttural noise slips from his throat. “You’ll only show me a glimpse of heaven, huh, angel? And then you’ll cast me out forever. Because you love to punish as much as I do.”

“Angel,” I say as I pull my shirt over my head. “I like that better than little doll.” I yank up my pajama pants, frowning. “Slightly better.”

“What’s wrong with little doll?”

When I turn toward him, he looks genuinely curious. I scoff. “It’s condescending. Obviously.”

His smile drops. “Rhett calls you ‘honey.’ Do you also find his pet name condescending?”

There’s something in his voice… Is it anger? It came so quickly. I thought this man was unflappable. Why on earth would he care what Rhett calls me? He threatened to kill him.

“Not at all,” I say. “Rhett loves me. I love him. It’s not a pet name but an endearment.”

The air in the library tightens. Damian’s blue eyes are like ice chips. “Are you sure he loves you?” His voice isn’t quite steady.

“Yes,” I say firmly.

“And yet you belong to me now, and where is Rhett? Probably in bed with one of his favorite girls. Not thinking about you.”

My head grows fuzzy. There’s no mistaking the anger in his voice now. Is it…

Is he jealous?

Crazy. My feelings shouldn’t matter to him. He needs me for some cult ritual, and he’s using Rhett as a way to keep me here.

I shake my head. “He doesn’t need to be thinking about me all the time for me to know he loves me.”

Damian grunts. “You’re a martyr, and it’s no way to get a man to want you. You’ve sacrificed yourself for him, when he should be—” His mouth tightens. “He should have killed me when I took you from him. That’s what a man does for his woman.”

I inhale a sharp gasp when he grabs my shoulders and yanks me against his hard, bare chest.

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