The thought heartened yet terrified me.
“What are you doing?” I was glad my confusion masked my fear and it helped that it was unfeigned. Even though the room was silenced and my bow was just a quick lunge away, I dared not risk him discovering the pearls. Not while his magic rippled off him while mine was still bound.
“You have my deepest thanks. I’ve long wished for this moment. It wasn’t enough for my little brother to be revered and praised by all, he had to steal my birthright, too.” His hands bunched into fists by his sides.
I stepped away from him, closer to the lacquered cabinet.
He cocked his head at me. “I’m so grateful, I’ll even let you flee. It would save me the trouble of disposing of you and it would strengthen my story.”
I froze. “Story?”
“Everyone will weep at the tragic tale. How the Celestial spy, the one my stupid half-brother fell in love with, betrayed and killed him.” His lips curved wider into a vicious smile.
“You’re . . . going to kill him? Your brother? And blame me for it?” Despite my anger at Wenzhi, my heart twisted at the thought.
“Half-brother,” he corrected me coldly, echoing Wenzhi’s own disdain at their kinship. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to escape? Don’t you hate him? Isn’t that why you did all this?” His arm swept across the room.
Without waiting for my answer, he drew his sword and stalked toward Wenzhi.
Chaos erupted in my mind. I hated Wenzhi, I reminded myself. For all he had done, for all he planned to do. I loathed and despised him and wanted nothing more than to escape. Yet could I really stand by and let him get murdered without a chance to defend himself? He was only vulnerable because I had tricked him. His death would be on my conscience, as surely as though I had plunged the sword into him myself. Unbidden, memories flooded me—of when he had defended me against Governor Renyu, when he had borne the brunt of Xiangliu’s attack, the many times we had watched over and protected each other. Oh, how he had lied to and deceived me; we could never go back to what we once were. But neither could I pretend that everything had been erased between us. I hated him now because I had loved him then.
I moved in front of Prince Wenshuang, blocking his path. My fingers clutched the jade hilt of my sword so tightly, the rubies dug into my palm. “I can’t let you do this.”
His pupils were slits of yellow flame. “Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t survive after all.”
I lunged at him, my sword raised high. He slammed it away with his blade, before flying toward me. I spun aside, whirling to kick at him. He dodged, I missed. As my sword arced toward his chest, he ducked—too slow—my blade slicing his ear. As blood trickled down his neck, a snarl erupted from his throat. I dove at him again—the air thickening with his energy as a gleaming shield encased him now. My sword crashed into his barrier, my arm throbbing as I staggered from the rebound. Before I could recover, he seized my wrist, twisting it roughly as my weapon clattered to the floor.
His fist plowed into my temple, his rings cutting into my flesh. I gasped as pain exploded through my head. Darkness bloomed, as I fought against the beckoning void. If I fainted now, Wenzhi and I would die. Prince Wenshuang charged at me—so quick, I was caught unaware—his arms locking around my waist, jerking my body against his, forcing me into a repulsive embrace. The fury in his expression morphed into something more sinister, which made me want to hurl up the contents of my stomach. If only I had my powers, I would have flung him against the wall until every bone in his immortal body broke. And still, it would not be enough.
My legs lashed out instead, my knee driving into his abdomen. He flinched, but did not loosen his hold. As I thrashed against him, he twisted my arms behind me and spun me around, shoving me against the ground with blinding force. My head slammed into the marble—stinging—as my blood splattered across the floor. As he crouched over me, he held me firmly down by my shoulder blades as I writhed in his grip.
“If only I could tell my little brother about this. Unfortunately for him, he’ll never awaken.” He was so close to me, flecks of his spittle sprayed across my cheek.
I gagged, trying to twist away from him. His fingers dug into my flesh with bruising force, his breath was hot and thick against my neck. Fear racked me as a thought flitted across my mind . . . that maybe death might be a mercy after all.
No, I banished it at once, sucking in a mouthful of air and screaming as loudly as I could. Let the guards come, I thought wildly, let them capture me. I would rather be a prisoner than at the mercy of this monster. But it was futile, the prince’s privacy shield swallowing the sound. Yet I did not stop—what had begun as a hollow cry of fear morphing into a bellow of white-hot rage, burning away my terror, kindling the fire in me . . . that I would fight.