Page 9 of Master of Storms
He was no longer the youngdrekiprince who’d been left alone in their mother’s court as a boy, desperate for answers. He’d survived her hellish reign, and he’d done it without Rurik. He’d escaped and managed to forge new armor for himself. A smile to deflect a threat, and charming words to wrap an enemy in confusion.
“Relax, brother,” he drawled, turning his gaze back to the fleeing princess. “I just want to talk to her.”
A conversation between them was long overdue.
Marduk forced the rush of the shift through his body, his arms lengthening into wings and his heart pounding with fierce glee.
Run, sweetheart. There's nothing I like better than a chase.
2
The floorboard creaked.
Just a faint shifting of timber beneath someone’s weight, but it definitely spoke of an intruder.
Solveig’s eyes shot open in the darkened room.
Who would dare enter her chambers?
The innkeeper and his wife had promised her sanctuary for the night, and she’d already proved to the drunks in the tavern that they’d be best not to trespass further. After an entire day spent laying false trails and avoiding a certain golden-haired prince, she needed rest.
Silence settled in her room behind her. Solveig eased out a breath, trying to sound as though she was still relaxed in slumber. Nothing moved. Not even a mouse. A hint of doubt crept through her.
Had she been dreaming?
Another faint creak.
Sleep sloughed off her as she realized there was definitely someone in her rooms. Why they hell hadn’t her wards awoken her? They should have been screaming at her the second an intruder touched either the door or the window.
She slid her hand under her pillow, pretending she was merely stirring in her sleep as her hand closed around the hilt of the knife she kept under there.
The intruder froze.
Each tick of her heart left her breathless as she tried to listen. She didn’t dare shift again. No, she wanted him close enough to kill.
There.
The shifting of floorboards as someone eased their weight forward.
Her nostrils flared.
Adrekimale. One primed for battle, judging by his racing heart. Hints of smoke and burned cinnamon….
She knew that scent.
Solveig burst upward just as a hand stole over her mouth.
"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" said a mocking voice in her ear as Marduk hauled her back into the cage of his arms.
* * *
If looks could slay,then Marduk would be twitching on the floor.
Solveig glared around the gag as she strained against the magical rope he’d used to tie her to the chair. Marduk hauled a second chair closer, slinging it backward and straddling it as he faced her. His back was a mess of claw marks, and she’d bitten his shoulder, but he’d finally managed to subdue her.
Barely.
If he hadn’t caught her by surprise, then he had little doubt he’d be the one with a knife to his throat right now. Instead, it had missed his thigh by half an inch. And now she was tied to a chair wearing little more than a shirt, though he’d caught a glimpse of white drawers beneath them.
