Page 73 of The Prince of Power

But she’s too naive. She can’t even see that she has any power in the first place.

I hate naivety. Despise it.

It makes you reckless. It gets you killed.

But I don’t hate it in her. I can’t explain it, but I’m almost…

I’m almost in awe of it.

I would recognize my power immediately if I were her, because my first thought is always to scheme, to control. To get what I want.

That’s not her first thought. She thinks she’s going to die, and yet she’s still thinking of the other people I might hurt. Her precious Rhett. Probably also her dad, her sister, and Sienna.

I clear my throat. “I wasn’t going to kill you even when I thought you were a traitor.”

“But—”

“I’ve told you before…there is no cult. When I said it was beyond your comprehension, I meant it. You’re reaching in the dark for something small and human. What you should be imagining is older than the first written word, more ancient than the pyramids.” I lean in, my gaze steady on hers. “And even then, you still wouldn’t grasp the truth.”

Her eyes grow huge. My girl is going to ask me a barrage of questions even in her frightened state. She’s too innately curious not to do it.

But I can’t tonight. I’m too weary.

Too shocked at my own behavior.

I stand up and walk toward the door. I hesitate and turn to her. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re safe.”

The truth of my words hit me like a punch in the gut. She is safe. For the rest of her life, she’s safe.

A certainty squeezes my chest with something I’ve known probably from the beginning. From the moment I looked into those round, gray doll eyes.

I’m keeping her.

Even if it means igniting a war within The Four Hundred itself.

22

Ava

Professor Lin is still talking, her voice drifting across the room in its usual measured cadence.

What is she saying? She’s been talking for an hour and a half, and I don’t even remember the topic of the lecture.

My notebook is practically empty. I have a single line scribbled across the top of the paper:modus ponens. And then nothing.

I don’t even care.

I zip my bag slowly, the hum of other students rising around me as they pack up to leave. Chairs scrape against the concrete floor.

None of it matters.

Not logic. Not notes. Not exams.

I’m going to die.

Damian said I am safe, but isn’t that exactly what you’d tell your human sacrifice if you wanted to keep her compliant?

After pushing open the heavy door of the lecture hall, I blink against the sunlight—and there he is.

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