Page 39 of Promise of Darkness
“Let me rephrase: You kissed me. Back.”
Heat fills my cheeks, because there’s no way I can deny it and not call myself a liar. I’d definitely lingered. “That’s beside the point. You don’t—"
“What’s wrong? It was a good kiss. You’ve naught to be ashamed about.”
“I thought we weren’t going to mention it again.”
“I don’t believe I agreed with that statement.” He’s definitely smiling to himself. “And you don’t give the orders here, in my kingdom.”
“We’re not in your kingdom,” I point out sweetly.
Thiago growls under his breath. “Stubborn.”
“Always.”
“As to your earlier question—before I had a chance to reply—you were right. There isn’t anything in Mistmere,” Thiago says, slipping through the forest with the grace of a ghost. “Only the ruins of a powerful kingdom.”
“Then why…?”
“Because maybe they’re trying to resurrect something within those ruins,” he shoots over his shoulder.
“What does that even mean?”
“You’ll see. It’s why I brought you, anyway.”
“I didn’t think you had much of a choice.”
“Oh, I had a choice. I could have chained you in the dungeon.”
“You have a dungeon?” I haven’t seen one anywhere in the ruins.
“I would have one made if you annoy me enough. Trust me, I’m starting to consider it.”
“If you locked me in a dungeon, I’d spend the rest of my life making you regret it.”
“How? You can’t even ward. And come to think of it, I’ve never even seen you use your magic. What are you going to do? Whine at me for the rest of my life? Call me bad names? Or stab me with a spoon?”
“Not a spoon, no.”
I reach down and scoop up a fistful of snow.
“I’m starting to like this idea. I might even make the chains gold. I think gold would suit your skin. You’d be my very pretty prisoner. If you’re nice to me, I might even bring you a book to read.”
He’s striding along in front of me as if he owns the forest. A smug, insufferable asshole who thinks everyone he meets should kiss the ground he walks upon.
The snowball shatters on the back of his head.
Thiago stiffens. Then turns. Slowly.
The second I see the look in his eyes, I bolt.
Back the way we came, floundering in the tracks we made. Too late. Something hooks my foot, and I slam face-first into the snow.
Slow footsteps stalk me. “Look at that. I didn’t even have to run.”
The fucker used his magic.
“If you could ward, then you’d have been able to escape your punishment.” The grin on his face is pure evil as he glides toward me.
