“Because I’d have to win the Trial to be your wife, and I don’t know how to control any of my affinities or wield magic, so how could I possibly win?”
“You’ll win because you’re going to train. Speaking of that, you’ll begin training with your tutor today. Your studies will start in earnest this afternoon, and since she’s the best tutor on the continent, I have no doubt you’ll succeed in three months when the tests commence.”
I eyed him warily, not for the first time sensing he wished me to be the victor. “It sounds like you . . . want me to win.”
His eyes shuttered, then flicked down to my neck. To where bruises lay from Vorl’s attack. The crown prince’s hands pumped into fists, and his aura flared hotter.
My brow furrowed, and my heart thrummed faster, just like it did every time I thought of my village archon.
“Where is Vorl anyway?” I asked, changing the subject.
“The castle dungeon. Still alive. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with him yet, but I have no doubt it will include some kind of torture.”
Cailis recoiled, a small sound of disgust parting her lips as I choked out, “You’re going to torture him?”
Prince Norivun smiled darkly. “At the very least. He touched you. Hurt you. For that he will pay.”
The air seemed to thin between us again, and the tension rolling from the crown prince was so thick I could have drowned in it. He was going to hurt Vorl. For me.
“What if I don’t want that?”
His eyebrows rose. “You don’t want him punished for what he did to you?”
“Of course, I want him punished, but torture is—” Nausea roiled my stomach.
The crown prince’s twisted smile grew. “I won’t make you witness it if you’re squeamish. I shall be the one who enjoys that pleasure.”
“Do you hate him that much?”
A low growl tore from his throat, and Cailis jumped.
“He purposefully hurt you. He was trying to kill you. I saw enough to know that. When you stopped me from—” His jaw clenched so hard that his teeth made a grinding noise. “From ending him then and there, it allowed me enough time to realize you gave me a gift. Now, I shall be able to take my time with him.” A perverse light shone in his eyes.
Cailis made another sound, a gurgle between disbelief and horror.
I squeezed her hand. “You’re not helping to dispel the preconceived notion my sister has of you being a complete monster.”
“Pity. I apologize.” The prince bowed mockingly, and I realized he was still so caught up in his fantasies of what he wanted to do to Vorl that he probably didn’t even realize how visceral he looked at the moment. He was like a dark demon coming to collect one’s soul, and he was savoring every bit of it.
And to think I’d wanted the prince only last night. This convoluted male of a fae.
But I’d seen other sides of him too, kinder sides. Softer sides. But looking at him now, I wondered if I’d been a fool. A fool indeed since my fluttering attraction to him still burned my insides.
A flash of Prince Norivun’s mouth on mine, his powerful body caught between my thighs, and my fingers threaded through his hair kissed my thoughts. I’d more than wanted him last night. I’d nearly begged him to take me.
Mother Below! I lurched from the bed and strode away from him. I had to. I didn’t trust myself around him.
“Why are you here?” I called over my shoulder. “Isn’t there some innocent family you should be murdering?”
Prince Norivun’s aura pounded into my back as he followed me, and I could only imagine what my sister was thinking as she sat mutely on the bed. With a start, I realized it was the first time I’d ever seen Cailis at a loss for words.
I rounded the turn near the wardrobe and entered the bathing chamber, but the prince followed, not even slowing when I tried to slam the door on his face.
His hand clamped around my wrist and whirled me to him.
My breath sucked in when my body slammed against his as my breasts flattened against his chest. His arm curled around my waist, and he dipped his head—his eyes like pools of stars, so bright and dazzling that they threatened to suck my soul into their powerful galaxy.
“Is that how you treat your crown prince?”
I struggled in his hold. “Let me go.”
His grip tightened as his gaze narrowed. “You responded to me last night. I felt and scented how much you wanted me. Why the sudden change now?”
“I did not want—” My head snapped back. “Wait. What? Scented?”
His lips curved, and my jaw dropped.
“You have a sensory affinity too? You can smell things other fae can’t?”
He shrugged. “It’s not my fault if I can detect how much you desire me.”
My pulse pounded like a wild beast as I frantically thought back to all of the times I’d been aroused by him, and to think he might have known it. No, he had known. Blessed Mother. Heat rose in my cheeks.
“What does that affinity allow you to detect?”
“In addition to an overall heightened sense of smell? I can also scent emotions.”
Fuck me. So the prince had his death affinity, his illusion affinity, an air elemental affinity, and a sensory affinity. But that still left two more that I didn’t know about.
“What are your other two affinities, my prince? I know you have six total, but I only know of four.”
His lips twitched.
I fumed and had the strongest urge to slap him. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“It would be more fun to let you figure it out. But as I was saying, why the sudden change from last night? You wanted me then. Are you truly going to act like you don’t want me now? That you don’t wish to be my wife?”
I tried to shove him away, but he didn’t budge. “Why would you want me to be your wife? Why would you want a female who despises you to be married to you?”
“But you don’t despise me.”
“I do.”
His lips kicked up in the most arrogant smile. “You don’t. I haven’t scented true hatred from you in over a week, and you certainly didn’t despise me last night, even though it seems you’re trying to forget our little encounter on the balcony.”
My insides tightened, and a flush of desire swept through me that was as raging as the northern winds. His smile grew. Bastard. I swatted at his arm, but he didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
“I was drunk. I always get a bit excitable when I’m drinking.”
“Is that so?” He ran the tip of his nose along the column of my throat. “You weren’t drunk, and don’t even try to deny it. I can scent your lie.”
Blessed Mother! I could hide nothing from this male.
He continued that embarrassingly pleasurable movement along my skin.
I gritted my teeth. Tormesh. Mother. Father. Tormesh. Mother. Father.
I needed to reclaim the absolute hatred I’d once felt so easily for this male. Because he was right. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I didn’t hate him as much as I had when we first met. The other sides I’d seen—the tender, caring, and empathetic sides—were clouding my thoughts.