Page 90 of Prince of Night and Storm
“Who says I'm not armed?” More than one reason why I hadn't wanted his hands under my dress.
“. . .I see. I'll speak with my guard.”
“What's the punishment for dereliction of duty these days? Death?”
“Hmm. Tell me more of age sixteen.”
I can endure this a little while longer. “That's the year. . .Baroun captured my brother.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I almost stutter. He has me so off kilter I forgot to censoranythingrelated to Embry. I’d actually been about to recount the full truth.“I haven’t seen him since. Is Danon still alive?”
The Prince tilts his head down, lashes veiling his eyes. “Have you seen a body?”
“Renaud, the only reason your palace is still standing is because we haven't seen a body.”
His smile unfurls like a fallen angel unfolding tattered wings, cruel and capricious, sensual lips revealing straight white teeth a single misstep from tearing into my flesh. I shiver.
“Are you cold, Aerinne?” His attention lowers to my cleavage and his eyes flare, pupils dilating.
More anger uncoils, sparked by the lust and maliceentwined in his voice. He’s trying to change the subject. “What I am, is using everything within me to restrain myself.”
Those eyes burn, flashing from glacial to blue flame in a whiplash. “This is you practicing restraint? One wonders what you'll be like naked, wet, and unleashed in my bed.”
Enough of this. I stop moving, making dead weight of my body, forcing him to halt. I hang onto good behavior, survival behavior, by a thread.
“Prince, when you see me unleashed, it will be because I'm covered in your blood.”
His knuckles brush my jaw. “Only if you are on your back, Lady. Or your knees, filled and covered with my come.” Cruel eyes, crude words, gentle fingers. “Then you may choke on my blood all you wish. I’ll feed it to you as I feed you my cock.”
I recoil. Not because it disgusts me. Because it doesn't. “I'll fight before I let you have me.” Which is probably true, but alsonot the right words,Aerinne,when you just barely nudged him out of a rut moments ago.
The Prince lowers his head and bites the rim of my ear, sharp and punishing. “You taunt monsters, little halfling. Is this how you wish me to woo you? Pain and punishment? Desire and debasement?”
“I don’t wish you to woo me at all. You use the right word when you use the word debase.”
He grips my hips, bruising.
“You are fortunate, Aerinne of Faronne, that your worth to me is greater than you comprehend. You arefortunatethat worth outweighs your refusal.”
A choice hovers in the air like a sword against my neck.
I lock my knees to keep from sinking to the stones. To keepfrom lunging at him with my hidden blade. For a split second, I'm certain he’s about to force me to my knees, uncaring of our quiet audience.
Renaud releases me and steps back, bending in a low bow.
“Lady Aerinne, it has been a pleasure, and your thoughts on myrightscharming.” A flicker of feral amusement. “Perhaps you should return to your father now, before I am tempted to demonstrate the difference between my idle advance and true force. Ava'malisse sovva anfa la akra khet neshir.”?1
I freeze when I hear those last, almost taunting words aloud, staring at him a split second, then turn on my heels to flee.
But I stop.
Turn back to him. He doesn't move, leashed only by whatever long term goal requires short term self-control. I don't fool myself into thinking he honored my “not yet” for my sake or even my mother’s.
“Nora is wrong,” I say. “Maybe our whole damn species is wrong. Force isn't an act of power. It's admission that you lack the intelligence, the strategy, the charisma, thewillto win another to your side.”
I hold his narrowed gaze, not allowing him to break it. I want him to understand. I need him to understand.
If he plays this game with me, neither of us will win.
If he plays this game with me, Faronne and Montague will burn. It's not in me, what my aunt says I must do. Submit to what I don't want. Pretend to be weak, make myself a snake, a slithering thing that works from behind the shadows because they are stronger than my blaze. Strongenough to snuff me out. A kraken will wait silent in the depths until roused but when it rises there is no doubt, no stealth, only sudden obliteration.
