Page 19 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
Perhaps it was meant to prepare me. He’d announced he was retiring for the evening, and now guided me along more twisting corridors, one hand on the small of my back.
His chamber was everything I’d expected. Walls of pale marble shot through with dark blue-grey and gold. Wide doors that opened onto an east-facing balcony. Thick, soft carpet I buried my toes in. A huge bed that could’ve accommodated half a dozen people with ease. Gauzy curtains surrounded it, drifting on a breeze I couldn’t feel.
But the thing I couldn’t tear my attention from was the moving painting that covered the ceiling. Clouds of pink and violet edged with golden light drifted across a pale blue sky, like someone had captured the quintessential dawn.
Despite myself, despite him, it filled my heart. Something like hope, like possibility, like the promise of a new day.
A nice idea, but every day was the same for me. It was all in service of ending the man who’d killed my sister.
That helped me drag myself away from the painted clouds scudding overhead and loosened my tongue. “Aren’t you going to ask why I did it?”
He turned from discarding his thorny crown on a dressing table. The absence of those spikes made him look the slightest bit more human, but then I caught sight of the striped tail curled around his calf and the effect vanished.
He raised an eyebrow. “Did what?”
I gritted my teeth. Had he forgotten already? Had he forgotten my sister, too? The furnace that opened in me stole my breath, keeping me still and silent for a long moment. I stamped it down. I needed to be in control. I didn’t want to spill too soon.
Once I’d mastered myself, I lifted my chin. “Tried to kill you.”
“Oh, that?” He shrugged. “Well, I worked out you’re not a hired assassin. So I should imagine you have some terribly boring, inane human reason.” With a gesture, he turned down the blankets on the bed without touching them.
Inside me, the fire broke free of the furnace and streaked through my veins. I shook, fists clenched against the near-overwhelming urge to march up to him and claw his eyes out.
I had to bide my time. My hands would be useless against him, even if I was quick enough to reach his skin.
No, I had to make him think I was tamed. With how fucking enraging he was, that wouldn’t be easy. But I had patience. I could play the long game. What was a few weeks when I’d waited a decade?
When he turned back to me, I was under something like control. He gave a pleasant smile, unfastening the solitary button of his shirt. If he thought I’d be impressed by a muscle-clad torso, he didn’t understand performing troupes—they were full of men who’d honed their bodies through hour upon hour of practice.
I met his gaze, giving him a bored look.
Unfazed, he unrolled his sleeves. “Did you enjoy your first day of pet life?”
I pressed my lips together. It wouldn’t do to become too tame too quickly—he’d grow suspicious. Plus, I couldn’t help myself when my silence made his jaw flicker.
He gave a faint grunt as he slid the shirt off. He was as well-muscled as I’d expected, large and strong.
But what I hadn’t expected was his skin. The stripes from his tail, deep autumn brown, continued across the rest of his body, encircling his powerful arms, trailing around his sides. When he turned and tossed the shirt on a chair, I spotted that they covered his back, too.
One of the circuses we occasionally teamed up with had a pair of trained tigers from the east. His stripes reminded me of theirs, a broken, organic pattern that sometimes showed up in sabrecats.
When I met his gaze, he wore a smile that was part lazy, part preening. He’d mistaken my attention for interest. And yet, as he unbuckled his belt, there was a challenge in his gaze.
He expected me to turn away or show discomfort.
Fuck that.
And fuck him.
I was not the human he expected. A little nudity didn’t bother me.
Not looking away, I unhooked my sheer skirt.
There was a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, perhaps? Or excitement?
He didn’t miss a beat, though, yanking his belt from its loops with a crack of leather.
No backing down.
