Page 30 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
“‘Cause he needs something,” Foxhelpfullyadds, and if I wasn’t holding Sylvan’s trembling fingers, I might be strangling my brother just about now. Does this mean Sylvan’s already making me a better person?
“I can assure you there will be noditchinganyone,” Sylvan says in a confident voice that doesn’t betray nerves the way his hand does. “Sometimes, you have to trust destiny, and it has brought us together for a reason. He will be mine.”
I know how it sounds to their ears, so I’m not surprised when Fox cackles like a hyena, and my father drags his massive hands down his face.
But I fucking love it. My heart tingles as if it were pumping champagne instead of blood. So maybe I have a weakness forpretty boys in trouble, and maybe it’s easy to impress me, but who wouldn’t want to feel special once in a while?
“It’s your own life you’re fucking up again. You are an adult,” Father says as Wolf enters the room with a pair of steel cutters. “We will get you the car, but you will be on your own after that. If this fancy little shit fucks you over, don’t you run to us for help.”
“He won’t,” I say, trying to control the anger flooding my veins.
As I turn to Sylvan, ignoring my father, I notice his expression has changed from the tense attempt at a smile to a cold glare. His pale pink lips have tightened into a tense line, and his blue eyes could cut my father in half if Sylvan really did wield magic. It’s a glimpse at a new side of him, but I’m not sure which one is the mask. The sweet smiles and innocent blushing, or the icy promise of cruelty?
His focus is gone the moment Wolf stands between him and my father with the cutters.
“Okay, lean your neck back against the sofa,” my brother instructs, eyeing the collar. “Is this some new kind of tag? Like an ankle monitor, but fancy?”
I shrug, hoping Wolf will decide he understood me and deal with the damn shackle. As the huge tool touches Sylvan’s neck he squeezes me harder with his sweaty hand, and I kiss the tip of his head as Mom enters bearing two mugs. One’s my favorite, huge and featuring a hawk mid-flight, the other is one of hers, with a view of the mountains.
“Are sandwiches all right?” she asks, offering me the cup of chocolate.
“Can you toast it for him?” Because I learned on the way about Sylvan’s preference for all things crunchy. Yet another adorable feature.
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Mom says and pats my shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen again.
“Please be careful,” Sylvan says, breathing hard when the jaws of the cutters close on the band around his neck.
Even though nothing bad will happen, and he’ll get a scratch at best, it still unnerves me to see him so vulnerable next to my brother. He really needs me. I can be important to him.
The thought alone makes my heart beat faster.
Wolf squeezes the cutters, making an unpleasant sound reminiscent of a screech, but the metal won’t budge. He tries again, and several violet sparks pop into the air as if in warning.
Wolf pulls back with a frown. “The fuck?”
Chapter 11
Sylvan
“Stop it! That’s enough!” My skin is burning where the purple flames fall, and I shoot to my feet, brushing my chest in an attempt to shake off the sparks. What if they set me on fire? Hurt me? Scar me for life? What if Lord Kyran already knows I tried to remove the collar without his permission?
“I told you it’s no use,” I yell as the tool clatters to the floor.
Wolf shows his teeth as if he really is his namesake, but it’s Fox who speaks from his armchair.
“This is what happens when you try helping whinging children like him. You should have learned that from your last boy toy.”
Hawk slams his mug on the table, and some of the hot chocolate spills down his fingers, onto the wood. “Shut the fuck up! I’ll never see you again, andthat’swhat you have to say?”
I straighten my back to seem at least that little bit taller among these damn giants. “Why should I cower and not speak my mind when I am more informed in the matters of my own collar?”I’m so frustrated that I can’t even explain to them what it is. No shackle forged by a grimsmith, from the royal Umlaris Band, which has the power to contain the force of Sunlight, to the most ordinary dream bracelet, can be removed by sheer force.
Wolf waves the cutters in front of me. “What fucking ‘matters’? I’ve been working with metal half my life when you’d struggle to even use these.”
Hawk rises and shoves his brother back. “Don’t get in his face!”
“Or what? He won’t put out later?”
“Fuck. You,” Hawk growls, and while I can sense he wants to leave my side and go after his brother, he refuses to budge.
