Page 80 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
I tucked my finger back in before I could speak a curse. Each breath tore through me, and I had to turn my back on her before she could see the temptation fizzing under my skin.
I was angry at her for her questions, for her pity, for her inability to help, but that didn’t mean she deserved my curse.
“I want to sleep now.” I bit out the words, glaring into the fire.
“That sounds wise,” she said softly.
I heard the quiet noises of her putting away the decanter and gathering blankets for me.
For me. It tangled inside and circled my throat. Care. Kindness. Friendship. That was what she offered me again and again, and I deserved none of it.
“Goodnight, Zita.” Her voice came from the other side of the room, by her bedroom door. “If you want to talk more, you know where I am. Any time.”
It burned in my eyes, pressing on their backs.
When I turned to apologise, she’d already gone.
33
The next day I reached the stage’s wings and understood why Sepher didn’t want me injured. Out on the stage hung a set of silks, ready for me to perform. I couldn’t spot any telltale glimmer of broken glass or diamonds on the stage to cut my bare feet. There was no sign of the hounds.
He’d probably mentioned those to Cadan to toy with me.
Arsehole.
In the wings, a box awaited me, with a note on top.
Wear this.
And inside?
Nothing.
My punishment was to perform naked in front of—I peered out through a crack in the curtain—yes, in front of his entire court.
Arsehole. Bastard. Prick.
Eyes squeezing shut, I clenched my fists and took deep breaths. “I will not back down.”
I shrugged off the dress Celestine had lent me this morning. I’d apologised over breakfast and she’d waved it off. Things had felt something like normal between us, though I thought I detected a hint of stiffness to her. Maybe it was because of this.
Cool air whispering across my skin, I stretched backstage, keeping half my attention on the audience. Just as they grew unsettled, I spoke the word that dimmed the fae lights and stepped out onto the stage.
Even though they were fae, when I reached the spotlight wearing precisely nothing, they drew a collective gasp.
Except for Sepher.
He sat at the front, on that throne as he had the first night I’d come here. His teeth showed in the dim light.
Celestine bent to his ear for a hissed conversation. He shook his head, jaw tightening. Celestine shot me a look before erupting from her seat and walking out.
Sweet of her to stand up for me. But I didn’t need it.
Shoulders back, arms spread, I presented myself to my audience, left and right, using every angle of the thrust stage. My heart pounded in anticipation of performing. It had been so long.
He thought I’d back down from this. That I’d hate it enough to lift his curse.
Even if I could remove my curses, this wouldn’t have made me do it.
