No matter that I loved him.
“You have to be hungry,” he said, pausing as he stretched out on his side, supporting his cheek with his fist. He couldn’t look more comfortable if he tried.
Or more alluring.
I shook my head. “I am hungry.”
He sighed. “Then what’s the problem, Princess?”
“I don’t want to eat with you,” I told him. “That’s the problem.”
“Well, it’s a problem you’re going to have to get over because it’s your only option.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I have options.” I turned from him. “I’d rather starve than eat with you, Your Highness—” I squeaked, almost coming out of my skin when he suddenly stood in front of me, moving so fast and so quietly I nearly missed it. “Gods,” I muttered, pressing my hand to my pounding heart.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess.” His eyes glowed a fiery amber as he glared down at me. “You don’t have options when it comes to your own well-being and your own foolish stubbornness.”
“Excuse me?”
“I won’t let you weaken or starve yourself because you’re mad. And I do get it. I get why you’re upset. Why you want to fight me on everything, every step of the way.” He took that step toward me, and my spine locked up as I refused to back away. His eyes burned brighter. “I want you to, Princess. I enjoy it.”
“You’re twisted.”
“Never said I wasn’t,” he retorted. “So, fight me. Argue with me. See if you can actually injure me next time. I dare you.”
My eyes widened as I lowered my arms. “You’re…there’s something wrong with you.”
“That may be true, but what is also true, is the fact that I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I can handle myself,” I shot back.
“I haven’t forgotten. I won’t ever prevent you from lifting a sword to protect your life or those you care about,” he said. “But I won’t let you shove that sword through your own heart to prove a point.”
Part of me was awed—still shocked that he wouldn’t stop me from fighting. The other half was infuriated that he thought he could control any part of me. As a whole, I let out a small shriek of frustration. “Of course, you won’t! What good am I to you dead? I imagine you still plan to use me to free your brother.”
A muscle along his jaw flexed. “You are nothing to me if you’re dead.”
I sucked in a sharp, stinging breath that scorched my lungs. What in the world had I expected him to say? That he wouldn’t want me dead because he cared? I knew better.
I had to know better.
“Come. The food will grow cold.” Without waiting for my response, he grabbed my hand. He started walking, but I dug in my heels. His head cranked toward me, the grip on my hand firm but not painful. “Don’t fight me on this, Poppy. You need to eat, and my people need to see that you have my protection if you have any hope of not finding yourself spending your days locked in a room.”
Every part of my being demanded that I do just what he claimed he enjoyed. It wanted me to fight him every step of the way, but common sense prevailed. Barely. I was hungry, and I needed to be at my strongest if I planned to escape. Plus, I needed his people to see that I was off-limits. If eating dinner with him like we were the closest friends would provide that, then I needed to deal.
So that was what I did.
I let him lead me out of the room, and I wasn’t even surprised when I found Kieran waiting for us. Based on the hint of amusement in his features, he must have heard at least half of our argument.
Kieran opened his mouth.
“Don’t test me,” he warned.
Chuckling under his breath, Kieran said nothing as he fell into step behind us. We took the same stairs we’d sped down hours earlier, and I tried not to think about my mad dash in the woods. What had happened when he caught me.
But a heatwave hit my veins nonetheless.
He glanced down at me, a questioning look in his gaze that I ignored while praying he couldn’t sense where my thoughts had gone.
As soon as we entered the common area, Kieran slowed his pace so he walked directly behind me. I knew that was no unconscious act. Descenters lined the walls, their faces pale as they whispered to one another, their eyes following us. I recognized some of them who’d stood in audience outside the cell. I saw Magda. There was no pity in her eyes now. Just…speculation.