Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

My gaze flew back to him.

“I would warn against attempting to run,” he advised, walking past me.

“Because you will stop me?”

“Because I will give chase.” He unhooked the straps holding the short sword to his back as he crossed into the bedchamber. “And I will capture you.”

I tensed.

The Prince stopped in the bedchamber, angling his body toward me as he lowered the sword he’d withdrawn. “But perhaps that is what you’d want.” He tossed the sheathed sword onto a chest. “To run. For me to chase.”

An unwanted thrill hit my blood. It was yet further proof of something being very, drastically wrong with me. I swallowed, holding myself still. “I don’t want that.”

One side of his lips quirked up as he unhooked his baldric. “What do you want, na’laa?”

“Not this.”

His laugh was like dark smoke. “What do you think this is?”

“I think I’m to be your own personal cattle.”

A short laugh left him. “My what?”

“You want me so you can easily feed. You said so yourself— ”

“That is not the sole reason,” he cut in. “Your baron wanted a reason. I gave him one.”

“Then why?” I stopped myself. His reasons didn’t matter. “I didn’t agree to anything.”

He placed the weapons down, then kicked off his boots, apparently not having a small arsenal to unload this night. “That’s not how I recall it happening.”

“I’m sorry? That’s not how you recall it?” I stared at him in disbelief. “I’m sure I was quite clear.”

“Yes. You were quite clear.” His head tilted. “Just as you were quite clear when you came on my fingers— not once but twice.”

My mouth dropped open as heat flooded my cheeks and lower, deep inside me, where my body clearly knew no shame.

His nostrils flared, his eyes becoming luminous even in the distance, and I knew he sensed that curl of desire.

I gritted my teeth. “I’m not sure what that has to do with this arrangement you insist upon.”

“It has everything to do with it.” He disappeared for a moment, then reappeared, carrying a bottle of liquor and two glasses.

The breath I took went nowhere as I watched him stop by the table and pour two glasses. “Then if that is the case, there are many within this manor and city who would be willing to take my place.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “But would any of them throw a glass at me?”

I drew a short breath through my nose. “Likely not, which should relieve you.”

“But it doesn’t.”

I blinked, unsure of what to say to that, because he wanted blunt objects thrown at his head? Which meant Claude had been right about that.

“And I also know that none of them would remind me of cherries or taste as good on my fingers,” he continued, offering the half-filled glass. “Nor are any of them a mystery to me.”

“There’s nothing about me that is a mystery.” I stared at the glass, then snatched it from him.

Prince Thorne eyed me, his stare so intense it was hard to stand still. “Why are you so against this arrangement?” His brows knitted as I took a drink of what turned out to be some sort of dark wine. “Please do not tell me you have feelings for your baron.”

That I hadn’t been expecting. “And what if I did?”

His jaw hardened. “Then your feelings would be wasted on a man who is clearly not worthy of them.”

Thrown by his statement, it took me a moment to respond. “You don’t know the Baron well enough to decide that.”

“I do know the only reason he lives is because you sat in his lap and I’d rather not see you covered in his blood.”

My chest turned cold. “Because he spoke of cutting off your arm? He was only kidding— albeit stupidly, but he wasn’t being serious.”

“I’m not talking about that.” He took a sip. “Though, I do agree that was stupid.”

“Then what?”

“He was touching you,” he answered. “I didn’t like it.”

“What? Are you saying you were jealous?”

“Yes.”

My laugh shattered the silence that followed. “You cannot be serious.”

Slowly churning eyes met mine. “Do I appear as if I am teasing?”

No, he did not. I gaped at him. “Why in the world would you be jealous?”

“I don’t know.” He brushed a strand of hair back behind his ear. “Not knowing has become quite commonplace when you’re concerned. I’m not sure if it annoys me or excites me.”

“Well, it confuses me.”

“Your reluctance in this confuses me.”

“Truly?” As he stared back at me, I could see that he spoke the truth. “You really don’t get it? Like it doesn’t even occur to you that demanding something like this from another would anger them?”

“If you and I had not known one another? If I didn’t know how much you enjoyed my touch? Then yes, I could understand someone’s anger, but that’s not the case between us.”

“Just because we know each other and I’ve enjoyed your touch doesn’t mean I don’t want to be asked, nor that I would continue to enjoy such things.”

“But I know you want my touch,” he countered. “Just a few minutes ago, your pulse rose in arousal— ”

“Oh my gods.” I lowered my glass to the table to prevent myself from throwing it. “I can’t believe I’m even having to explain what should be taught at birth— ”

“But I was not born,” he interrupted, brows furrowed.

“That shouldn’t mean . . .” I trailed off, staring at him. My lips parted as what he’d said earlier that day in my chambers struck me— the lack of humanity. A lot of things fell under that, going beyond just caring for another. Being understanding did. Thoughtful. Considerate. Without humanity, there was just . . . “Logic.”

“Logic?” he repeated.

I shook my head. “Deminyens operate on logic and not emotion?”

He seemed to think that over. “That would be somewhat accurate.”

But logic was cold, and he wasn’t that. “Last night you asked me to join you in the tub. You didn’t just assume that is what I wanted.”

“I knew that was what you wanted,” he said, and my eyes narrowed. “But I sensed your nervousness— the skip in your breath was part uncertainty and part arousal.”

“Can we just stop saying ‘arousal’ for the rest of our lives?”

“Why?” The blue of his eyes lightened. “Because the truth of how you feel around me bothers you?”

“Maybe— oh, I don’t know— I don’t need you pointing it out every five seconds?”

His chin dipped. “So you do acknowledge that you are aroused by me.”

I opened my mouth.

“I have this distinct feeling you’re going to lie,” he said, a hint of smile playing across his lips. “And claim that you will not enjoy your time with me.”

“Whether or not I will doesn’t matter. You should always ask.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why when we both already know what is wanted?”

Blowing out an aggravated breath, I desperately clung to my waning patience. “Because you shouldn’t assume that will never change. It can. It can change at any second for various reasons.”

“Hmm.” The sound hummed from him as his gaze flicked over me. “I suppose then I must endeavor to ensure that doesn’t change.”

My lips pursed. “That wasn’t the point I was getting at.”

“It’s not?”

I sighed, twisting the laces on the gown. “I feel like we’re speaking two different languages.”

That half grin appeared as he finished off his wine. “So, na’laa, would you like to join me this evening and upon my return?”

I glared at him.

“What?” Somehow he was closer, less than a foot from me. “I’m doing as you requested. I’m asking.”

“And why are you asking now?”

“Because it is important to you that I do so.”

Surprised, I felt my eyes widen slightly. “Yeah, well, it’s a little too late for that since you’ve kidnapped me.”