ISKERA
He is right.
By the gods, he is right.
If I go back with him, and if I wear his ring, my father can't touch me. He won't dare, not if he likes the feel of his head on his neck.
Is this why the shadow had wanted me to come here? Has it foreseen this? Yet how can it? What is it even?
I bite my lower lip unconsciously, the cogs of my brain whirling, stopping only when the prince's lips touch mine.
It is an almost-not-there touch, a ghost of a graze, but it sends shivers through every cell in my goddamn body.
"What are…"
The words die when he does it again.
What is wrong with this prince? How can he touch me without flinching?
"I didn't expect you to think long on this. Or do you want to die?" His voice is still a whisper, still toying wickedly with my senses, but I yet wonder why he would want to help me.
Why isn't he afraid?
"What… what do you want… in return?" I finally stutter, lifting my eyes to meet his seductive gaze.
How can a man be this beautiful, this wholesome? It isn't even fair. Rian doesn't even come close, and I had thought him the most beautiful male I'd ever see.
"Will you believe me if I said I wanted nothing?"
I shake my head without hesitation.
And there goes that smile again, a wider one that reveals—a side dimple?
My gods… I can't take much more of this. I try to shift back, but his arms pull me even closer, an iron embrace.
"Stop fighting me…" he murmurs. His lips press against the left side of my mouth, causing a sudden spasm to run through my legs. "Especially when you want me."
I scoff then, swallowing hard against the dryness of my throat. "Just tell me what you want in return. And I'm not your property."
"You will be if you go back with me."
"No, I—"
He presses his lips firmly on mine, making me inhale sharply and shut up.
"You have to be mine in every way if we have any chance of fooling my father."
Yes, his father—who will have both our heads if he sees us like this.
What exactly is the prince thinking? Does he want to cause a nuclear war among the factions? Because, surely, that's what my presence would bring about.
"And why would you want to give your father a heart attack? You want a faster claim to the throne? Because I assure you, that will not be feasible with me as your Luna."
"You talk more than I thought," he says, making my mouth open, then shut. "Which I'm not sure is a good thing for me."
"If you want a dumbso, find something else."
He chuckles, his hands tightening around my waist. "No. You will do."
"Do as what?"
He shrugs. "My father is currently trying to finalize a treaty marriage between me and a Vampire Countess. He thinks he can chain me to a bloodsucker to secure a border, to keep the peace that has existed between us and those things for much longer... his last duty before he bequeaths the throne to me."
He leans in, his scent filling my head until I can barely think. "But if I showed up with you on my arm? A woman their prophecies say will end us all? That treaty burns before the ink is dry. I don't think the vampires would want anything to do with me, nor with the kingdom as a whole. They won't want to be cursed. Or don't you think so?"
I look at him, breathless. "You want to use me to spite your father and the vampires?"
"And you want to live," he says simply. "We both benefit. It's a win-win."
Win-win indeed. Even the shadow agrees, urging me to take it.
But where will that lead?
Me? Staying in the Alpha King's residence? Will I be locked up in another attic? Will I be…
"Your conditions with me will be much better than whatever you experienced as your father's daughter… I promise," he assures me, as if he had read my very mind.
"Yet how can that be? Isn't it all werewolves, and am I not seen as a curse already? What changes?"
"You have my protection, princess. And you won't stay in an attic. You can trust me."
Trust him. I trusted Seren, didn't I? And where did that lead me?
You know you don't have a choice, really. You have to live.
Live for what? I ask the shadow.
Of what use am I? And who are you? What do you want with me?
You can call me Nox.
My brows furrow. Nox? What sort of name is that?
"You are still thinking?"
I look at the Prince and bite my lower lip again. A deal to live. Sin and salvation wrapped in a royal crest. What does it mean in the details, though?
Will we sleep together?
I feel the blush rising in my cheeks as I say, "Fine. I'll be your weapon."
Prince Vane looks at me for a long beat, his gaze dropping to my lips.
I expect him to finish what we started, a kiss to seal the deal. I expect the heat of the bed, at the very least.
But he reaches into the pocket of his black slacks and pulls out a heavy, gold signet ring.
"Wear this," he says, sliding the cold metal onto my finger. It's far too large, but as it touches my skin, the gold seems to shrink, tightening until it fits perfectly.
Then he steps back, putting distance between us. The heat leaves the air instantly.
"I won't touch you tonight, Iskera," he says, his voice suddenly formal, almost cold, as if we hadn't almost lost ourselves to lust. "I have enough sins on my soul. I won't add a dying girl's innocence to the list."
The rejection stings differently this time. Maybe because there isn't disgust in his voice, just a boundary. Or maybe he doesn't want to "taint" himself with a girl who is already marked by death.
Even here, when I thought we made progress, I'm still the untouchable thing.
Tears threaten to slip from my eyes, but I hold them back, watching as he picks his shirt from the chair and pulls it over his head.
"Keep the ring safe," he says, opening the door. I have not moved yet. He doesn't seem to care. "Show it at the ritual. I'll be watching."
I watch him walk away, the heavy gold ring feeling like a shackle and a shield all at once. I can't believe I've been played again.
It's obvious now that all his earlier musings had been to get me to agree to his side of the deal. It's possible he had known who I am even before our eyes met for the first time.
Now, I think—no, I know—there won't be sharing of beds. I'm just a political grenade.
You are overthinking a lot.
"Shut up!" I cuss at the shadow loudly, not minding its dangerousness. "You are the cause of this." I hate the disappointment and anger mixing in my chest.
But isn't this better than dying, little vessel?
"Don't call me that!"
A tear finally slips past my eyes, but even I know it is right.
Hopefully, the Prince keeps his word about the attic. Any form of freedom will be appreciated.
My heart can take care of itself.