Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

Jerking out of my stupor, I snapped forward, but I didn’t make it very far before the Prince’s arm tugged me back against his chest. My head whipped toward him. “Let me go.”

Swirling eyes locked with mine. A tense heartbeat passed; then his arm slipped away as a faint grin appeared. “Your command is my will.”

I stood, bumping into the table and rattling the glasses that remained as I slipped away from him. “I don’t know why you’re smiling, Your Grace. What you ask for, you cannot have.”

“Thorne,” he corrected. He picked up his whiskey. “This should come as a surprise to no one, but just so we all are clear, what I want? I get. And what I want is for you to keep me company during my stay here.”

I inhaled sharply. “Well, I suppose this will be a first for you then.”

He took a drink as he looked up at me. “I already had a first. Just once when I didn’t get what I wanted. There will not be a second time.”

Anger welled up inside me so quickly that I forgot what he was and who I was. “You are out of your mind if you think you can just demand to have me.”

“Lis,” Claude warned.

“No,” I snapped, chest rising and falling heavily. “It will be over my dead body.”

The Prince only raised a brow. “That’s a bit dramatic, na’laa.”

“Don’t call me that.” My lips thinned. “I am not an object that you can simply take possession of or collect.”

“I didn’t suggest that you are an object.”

My nails bit into my palms. “Exactly what are you suggesting then? Because I didn’t hear you ask me what I wanted.”

“I already know what you want.” Something far too close to amusement danced in his churning eyes.

“You have no idea what I want.”

“We’ll have to disagree on that.”

“There’s no disagreeing— ”

“I’m only asking this once,” he said to the Baron, cutting me off. “I will not ask again.”

“In other words, you’re not asking for permission,” I shot back.

He lifted a shoulder. “You can choose to see it that way.”

“Choose?” I exclaimed. “There is no other way to see it.”

“Once more, we will have to disagree.”

“Why her?” Claude demanded again, surprising me.

Prince Thorne didn’t answer for a long moment. “I will need to feed, and I prefer to do so with her.”

He wanted me so he could feed? The anger nearly choked me, but it was tinged with something akin to . . . to disappointment? Which made no sense. Furious, I turned away from the Prince, fully intending on leaving the dining hall. I was done with this absurdity.

“You asked if I was cruel.” Prince Thorne spoke again, focusing on the Baron. “I ask the same question of you. Are you cruel?”

I stopped, turning back to the Prince. He wouldn’t . . .

“I’m sorry?” Claude stood, planting his hands on the table. “I’m not sure why you would ask that question of me.”

“You’re not?” Prince Thorne spoke softly, sending a chill through me. “You claim that she is most valued and yet you have treated her with such reckless disregard. You sent her to my quarters, apparently either too forgetful or too intoxicated to inform me of her arrival. She could’ve been killed.”

“But I wasn’t,” I hissed. “Obviously.”

Prince Thorne ignored me. “Not only that, she has been treated cruelly. When I saw her earlier, she was bruised.”

My head jerked back. “I was not bruised.”

The Prince eyed me. “I do enjoy your lies.”

Claude turned stiffly toward me. “What is he speaking of?”

“Nothing— ”

“Her wrist was bruised,” Prince Thorne interrupted. “She said she got it while gardening.”

“I did.” I shot him a glare that should’ve set him afire.

He was unfazed. “It was such a strange bruise to obtain while gardening, considering it clearly resembled fingerprints.”

“What happened, Lis?” Claude asked, pressing his hands flat to the table.

I lifted my chin. “As I said, nothing.”

Claude’s jaw hardened as he leaned forward. “Hyhborn cannot lie, but caelestias and mortals can. I want the truth.”

“I’m not saying he is.” The tips of my ears burning, I crossed my arms. “I didn’t even realize I was bruised, so I assumed it happened while I was gardening.”

“Huh.” Prince Thorne inclined his head. “I didn’t know plants had fingers and were able to grab someone hard enough to leave a bruise.”

“No one asked you for your opinion,” I retorted.

Slowly, the Prince turned his gaze upon me.

“Lis,” Claude hissed this time. “You know better.”

I did.

I did know better as I stared at the Prince of Vytrus, my heart slamming against my ribs. I’d overstepped, more than once, but this time, I’d belly-flopped over that line. I froze. Tiny hairs lifted along the nape of my neck as the air thickened and the flames stilled. That mouth of mine had surely gotten me in trouble this time.

But Prince Thorne . . . he smiled.

My stomach dipped.

The smile he bestowed was not tight or cold. It was wide and real, showing a hint of teeth and softening the icy, unreal beauty of his features.

“She meant no offense. That I can assure you,” Claude promised, and I almost laughed at the irony of him having to defend me. “She sometimes speaks passionately and . . . without thinking.”

“No offense taken.” The blue of the Prince’s eyes had brightened once more. “Quite the opposite, to be honest.”

I shook my head in disbelief, but he did seem . . . pleased, and that was just, well, somehow more disturbing.

“Your understanding is appreciated.” Claude took his seat. “I swear to you that my treatment of her is not what left her skin bruised.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “But I will get to the bottom of it.”

“Glad to hear that.” Prince Thorne’s fingers tapped along the table again. “And my request?”

His request? More like his demand.

“I will be leaving the day after tomorrow to meet with my armies to escort them here,” Prince Thorne continued. “It will take several days to make the journey, but while I’m here, I want her with me.”

Claude refilled his brandy. His knuckles were bleached white as he gripped the glass and took a drink.

I started to sweat, anxiety building.

“I have no problem with your request,” the Baron announced.

“What?” I gasped, twisting toward him.

“Perfect.” The Prince nodded at Claude, then rose, turning to me. He smiled. “Our arrangement is agreed upon then.”

Having not agreed to anything, I took a step back, bumping into the table.

His smile deepened. “You have an hour to ready yourself.” He prowled past me, stopping as his arm brushed mine. He looked down, lashes lowered. “I so look forward to seeing you later.”

Stunned speechless, I watched the Prince of Vytrus stalk out of the dining hall. I couldn’t even move as I stood there, my skin flashing between hot and cold.

“How could you tell him that was okay?” I faced the Baron. Then it sank in, finally breaking through the anger. Hyhborn could take what they wanted, even from a caelestia. “You didn’t have a choice,” I admitted, but he could . . . he could’ve at least said that he wasn’t okay with it.

“He gave a choice, Lis. Even if it didn’t sound like he was, you know that he did.” Claude stared from beyond the now-calm candlelight. “He could’ve simply compelled both of us into agreement.”

Yes, the Prince could’ve done that. “Does that matter?”

“It should always matter,” Claude stated softly, drinking.

It had mattered last night, but that had been different. “This is absurd!” I shouted, throwing up my hands. “I cannot— ”

“Who?” Claude asked. “Who bruised you?”

I couldn’t believe he was focused on that when he had basically handed me off to a Hyhborn prince. “That’s not really important at the moment.”

“I beg to differ. I want to know who.”