Page 133 of Spar of Hearts

A growl roiled in her throat as she shoved him away. He recoiled in momentary surprise at her strength. Then, with a snap of his fingers and a shrill cry from his bird, the shifter band on her wrist grew hot. A familiar ripple coursed through her spine. Pressure built in her jaw, and her fingers pulsed. Fear seized her chest.

She was shifting. Her panicked eyes darted between the Prince and his bird, then—

That bird.

She knew that bird.

In a rush, she realized exactly where she’d seen it—looming upon the topmast of the Lupus Star amid the magical storm.

They were on.

“You lured me here,” she grit out. Somehow…you knew…we were coming…” With a growl, she tried to resist the shift, but the wolf overcame her and she burst forth in a blinding flash.

A yelp escaped her as a heavy paw forced her against the marble floor. She recovered her composure with roiling snarl. The Prince was the epitome of the most rakish of suitors she’d ever dealt with. Being wolves in this moment made it no less unsettling.

“My bride is a bright one,” he breathed, canine breath wafting to her nose. “I had intended to haul you in with the storm. Imagine my surprise when the only quarry I cared about was not aboard.”

Anya’s rage morphed into terror, pinning her ears back as the Prince shifted all his weight atop her. He buried his nose in the thick fur of her neck, then huffed out slow, covering her with his unwelcome scent.

She loathed the fearful whimpers that eked from her muzzle, but she couldn’t stop. The Prince exerted some kind of energy, the way Adam Eran had. But where Adam’s energy radiated leadership and strength, the Prince’s was brutal and paralyzing. Her mind was back in a cage, all the while her instincts cried out for help, for her mate, for the Mother Moon to come down and smite the Prince.

But any intervention would only seal the children’s fate.

Stop, please stop, please—

The Prince jeered, “You’re sniveling like a dog. What’s wrong? Never felt the pull of a proper alpha before? I suppose not, since you claim to be mated to that fanged abomination.”

Her claws scrabbled at the marble as she tried to escape. He dug a paw between her haunches. “You need to be tamed. You and your kingdom of human hybrid mutts.”

The weight lifted from Anya’s back, and light surrounded them, and they were back on two legs. Before she could utter a word, her back met the bookcase.

“And I think I’ve found the perfect leash for the job,” he crooned, pressing harder against her, sliding his hands down her waist in a demeaning appraisal.

“Rake,” she spat. A growl roiled in her throat as she tried to twist free to no avail. She could overpower almost any human. But she had to remember that like Henrik, the Prince had no shortage of strength in this form.

“I like a wild woman,” he whispered, sending hot breath on her neck right over Roderick’s fang marks. “But if you cross the line, I’ll punish your people. And if they do, I’ll use you, their precious Princess, to pull them back.”

A bitterness made her heart twinge. She wasn’t precious. She was a pawn. She was a pawn in her parents’ hands or the Prince’s.

Then Roderick’s sweet protests slipped into her mind.

You’re so much more than that to me.

As she leaned into the reassurance it gave, she swore she could feel his breath moving in and out in tandem with hers—just for a moment, a ghost of a sensation, a spring breeze in her lungs. It carried hope, life, love. But all the love in the world couldn’t change who she was, or what she needed to do.

“What would you expect of me?”

“Only the auspices of marriage. Rule by my side. Warm my bed. Mother my children. And in exchange, I’d say your hand is worth”—he hummed thoughtfully—“six chests full of mana stones.”

She nearly retched at the thought of sleeping with the prince, but the mention of mana stones made her freeze. Six chests. Each about two cubic feet, and each mana stone averaging half an inch…

The numbers ran through her head. A lot. The answer was a lot. At least thirty thousand stones. Enough to cure the children and replenish the emergency stores of every region twenty times over. With proper regulation, that many stones would last Valeria decades.

“And what of my kingdom?”

“If you live peacefully with me, Aquillas and Valeria will continue as they always have. And if famine or flood or invaders threaten to harm your people, I will send aid. Although…Miss Melusine’s letters did mention your fear of your replacement, Count Scorer. But rest assured. By then, our children will be grown and have a rightful claim to both kingdoms. We’ll rid Valeria of the humans and restore our lands to their former glory. To before the glacial wall.”

There it was—the reason he’d stoop so low as to marry a “half-breed.” She had no doubt she would’ve figured it out on her own eventually. The Prince either believed she already despised humans, or that he could convince her of it in time. But humans were as much her people as the Lycanians, Elvani, and Centarians. She loved them all. She was willing to die for them all. So she would live for them too.