Page 39 of Thief of Dreams
Keir kisses his way up Soraya's throat, hands sliding up the silk covering her back as she arches her head back in a simulation of pleasure. Or, at least, what I hope is a fucking simulation. Because someone is moaning, and it damned well better not be her.
Then her hand slides into her skirts, lantern light glinting off the flash of a golden hilt strapped to her thigh.
And I am done.
Night’s Bloom or no Night’s Bloom, rage ignites within me, like a starved furnace granted oxygen.
I offered her a truce. But once again she's spat in my face.
And whatever I might have begun to feel for the prince—forbidden or not, hopeless or not—she has no right to try and take that from me.
Twistingthrough the shadows, I slam onto the bed, sending her sprawling off him. Half-shadow, half-flesh, I draw back my fist and punch her right in the mouth as she screams.
The knife makes a loud clatter as it hits the floor, but my rage knows nothing else.
Soraya grabs for my throat, but we're both scrambling for balance on the treacherous bed. Silk fucking sheets slither like snakes beneath us. I can't get a decent grip on her, but neither can she. We both hit the floor as a snarl erupts behind us, and suddenly I lose my grip on the Sift.
The shadows drain from the room around me as I physically manifest, rolling across the cold, marble tiles.
Keir's on his hands and knees, the glints of gold in his eye practically spitting sparks. And then he sees both of us facing each other and freezes. "What in the Cauldron's name is going on?"
I watch as his gaze locks on the discarded dagger. The claw that hung around his neck is beside it, as if she ripped it from his throat when I slammed into her. It's as if the veil is swept from his eyes. No more confusion. He understandsthis.
And curse it all, I can hear his voice speaking of trust. Of betrayal.
"Sorry, Your Highness," I gasp, as Soraya gives a vicious scream and launches at me. "Family dispute."
I block her blow. And then the second. Rage glints like a trapped predator in her eyes as she realizes I'm not the girl I was.
"Do you know," I taunt, "I've never really wanted to hit you until now."
"And yet you still haven't managed to strike a blow."
Oh, that does it.
I launch forward.
We're a whirlwind of elbows and knees. Enough poison must have hit my system, for it's harder to breathe now. Harder to block the next punch. Heaviness seeps through my limbs, and the rage that fueled me is dying.
And then something smashes us apart, like a fist of pure air slamming into my ribs.
I hit the floor, hands and legs flying, tumbling head over heels until I hit the wall.
Ow.
It's so tempting to stay down, to give in.
But an icy wind sweeps through the chamber, bringing with it an air of menace. And suddenly I'm reminded of the true predator in the room.
"Enough." Prince Keir's golden skin glows internally, as if his body simply can't contain the magic radiating through him.
He makes a claw gesture with his hand, and a pair of glowing golden cuffs spring into being around my wrists.
I take one look at Soraya as similar cuffs snap around her wrists. Her lip curls in fury.
"Would love to stay, Your Highness." I push to my feet, reaching for the shadows. "But I think it's time to put this farce to an end. You chose me before you knew what I was, but it's better it ends this way." My voice softens. "Now no one will get hurt. Goodbye."
I hurl myself into the shadows—
