Page 91 of Claimed

He’s still standing like a king carved out of shadow and command. But there’s an effort to that stillness now, a fraction too much control in the way he holds his shoulders. It’s the kind of thing I would miss in anyone less dangerous. In him, it glares.

I push off the wall. ‘What happened?’

He doesn’t answer.

‘Valentin.’

‘I am asking the questions.’

My temper flares. ‘And I’m asking why you look like someone embalmed you standing up.’

His mouth twitches with mean amusement. ‘Still flippant. Good. I was beginning to worry the dungeon had diminished you.’

I fold my arms, mostly because I don’t trust what my hands will do otherwise. ‘You brought up Selphine. You sent your people after her. Tell me what happened.’

‘She was not there. Had not been for a while, evidently. But hear this, hunter. There will be no more exchanges in here.’ His gaze drifts meaningfully over my face. ‘No wagers or trades or kisses purchased for answers. I have indulged enough of your games.’

Heat lashes across my skin. Humiliation first, then anger right on its heels.

The kiss wager. Of course he would drag that into this. Of course he would take something intimate and hold it up by the throat until it stops looking tender and starts looking stupid.

He sees the flush and something in his eyes darkens with satisfaction. ‘Yes. That expression is much more honest.’

I hate him for the way my body still reacts to his voice. Hate myself more for it. So I go for the throat. ‘Then why not kill me and be done with it?’

That births a long, taut silence in which his face gives me nothing. And for one irrational second I wonder if I’ve pushed too far.

Then he says, ‘You are novel in other ways.’

My brows lift despite myself.

He takes one step closer. ‘You are the only one who has managed to get close enough to—’ He stops as something in him clenches. Hard.

I hear it in the abrupt halt of the sentence. And because I’m apparently committed to making every bad situation worse, I finish it for him.

‘Close enough to wake you up?’ I say softly. ‘Close enough to remind you you’re not infallible?’

The air thickens with something so dangerous my skin tightens.

Then Valentin moves again. One blink and he’s nearly on me, fury resurrected in full.

But this time the motion goes wrong. It starts as a slight catch, then a break in his perfect balance, his weight shifting a fraction too far before he corrects.

He sways.

And my body reacts before my mind does. I reach for him, my hand closing around his forearm.

We both freeze.

And the contact burns with the shock of warm skin over impossible strength, the immediate awareness of how finely controlled he normally is and how very not controlled he is right now. A pulse runs through the bond so sharp it almost robs me of breath. I feel his emotions. Anger. Pride. A furious refusal to weaken in front of me. And beneath that, something uglier. Something his body can no longer fully conceal.

My fingers tighten without permission.

His gaze drops to them. Then rises to my face and in that suspended, unbearable second, everything between is stripped down to the nerve.

Concern. Recognition. The memory of his blood in my mouth, his fear by the lake, his hands on me for reasons that had nothing to do with violence.

And… Gods, it’s too much. So I let go like I’ve touched fire.