Page 3 of The Incendiary

But I couldn’t slow down. I was ready to punish now and ask questions later.

“I know who you are to me,” I answered brusquely. “Who wants to hurt you?”

As she stared, her eyes filled with a resigned sadness that I didn’t understand.

“Ella.” I dragged my chair around the side of the table, leaned forward, and held her hands. “Tell me who wants to hurt you.”

She cleared her throat. “Molochai.”

My brow furrowed. “Why would he want to hurt you, specifically?”

“Because my mother is Queen Christabel.”

I stared and waited for her to correct herself, but she didn’t.

Molochai was a mad, shadow-wielding sorcerer. Together with Simeon Whitlock, he had discovered magic and overthrown the tyrannical Rexus family. They placed Simeon’s sister, Christabel, on the throne and used their magic to rule over the continent.

But one tyrant had only paved the way for another. Molochai fell in love with Christabel. And when she married another, he slaughtered Christabel’s husband and newborn child in a jealous rage before cursing the queen. Since then, Christabel barely showed her face and remained in the castle, gravely ill.

“Molochai killed Queen Christabel’s only daughter when she was days old,” I muttered in disbelief. “They say he stabbed the child through the heart.”

I reluctantly released her trembling fingers as she reached for the collar of her blue dress, pulling it down just far enough to show a scar on the skin above her left breast.

“I survived,” she whispered. “My full name is Aryella Jay Whitlock.”

I stared at her blankly, feeling even less worthy yet more determined than before, as the information settled. “So, you’re a princess. Should I bow?” I began to lower myself to my knees.

“No!” She stood and grabbed my shoulders, stopping me from kneeling. “No, please don’t bow. I should go.”

Panic tore through me at the thought of her leaving like this.

“I’ll go. Just please don’t tell anyone I was here. This was a mistake, putting you in the middle of my mess.”

But the middle of her mess was exactly where I wanted to be.

I grasped her hand and squeezed, pulling her closer. “Stay.” I lifted one finger to graze her skin where pink gathered. Her breath caught at the contact. “I don’t care who your parents are, Ella. I’m fascinated with you regardless.” Obsessed was closer to the truth. “If you couldn’t tell.”

Her delicate throat flexed with a swallow. “It doesn’t scare you?”

Oh, it did. I was in so far over my head, it would take a miracle to keep me from drowning. Only I didn’t want that miracle. I wanted her. I would drown forever, tread the frenzied waves of the eternal, furious ocean, over and over again if that was what it took.

“I don’t care.” I cupped her face in my hands. “Please don’t ask me to stay away from you.”

Her breaths grew shallow and uneven. I bit my tongue to keep myself grounded, but her green eyes were focused on my lips, and she smelled so sweet. I lowered my mouth close to hers as our breaths intermingled. I longed to kiss her, but I lowered my hands and held hers instead.

No one in this city knew she existed, which meant she’d hardly been outside of that castle. She had never been touched. Never been kissed. Never been held. And her hands were shaking.

“You are a dream that I want to last for more than one night.” I brought our hands to my lips and kissed hers. “If you’ll give me the honor of letting me see you again.”

I began to imagine all the ways I would kiss her. All the ways I could make her laugh and smile… among other things.

She shifted closer, and the sleeve of her cloak fell away to reveal fresh bruises on her arm. Five small spots that looked like fingers.

“Who did this to you?” My voice was a dark, animalistic growl.

“It’s nothing,” she assured me unconvincingly.

“Those are finger marks.” I clenched my jaw to hold back my rage. Anger and I were old friends, but I had never boiled from the inside out like this. My fury fed my need to protect her, to surround her and fend off the danger I instinctively knew would never stop coming for her.