Page 33 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
“Your fear smells so sweet,” he murmured against my throat.
The shudder rippled through me, despite how hard I tried to hold still. Heat flooded my stupid body, which didn’t understand the difference between a man about to kill me and one about to fuck me. I’d always loved dirty talk, and his tone matched that, low and deep. The brush of his lips against my skin was just like a lover’s, light and teasing.
“I wonder how it tastes.”
Yes. He was going to bite me. Rip my throat out, exactly as he’d threatened.
His hot breath fanned my skin as his thumb pressed my head over further. Just below my collar, a rasping lap of his tongue over my fluttering pulse left my face tingling. Its roughness was like a cat’s, made for cleaning. But also for stripping the meat from bones, as a sabrecat breeder had once told me while fucking me over the table. He’d been a little too obsessed with his cats. What would he have made of the prince?
“Yes, I like that.” He laved my throat again. “Delicious. I might have to sample every part of you.”
I froze as a point that felt different from his claws—larger, less sharp—trailed from my jaw down to my collarbone, clicking over my collar. One of those huge canine teeth. The light touch had me pressing into the tree, all too aware that if he applied a little more pressure, I’d learn they were still sharp enough to pierce flesh.
I tried to ignore the size of his body, its firmness. I tried not to think about the large dick I’d seen between his legs as he’d stalked closer. Or the way his balls in this form were covered in short fur that gleamed like velvet. And I tried so, so hard not to think about the times Eric had made me come while gripping my throat as the prince held mine now.
But my body was a traitor. It remembered all those things. Focused on them, like it could cling to those as he killed me, and it would make my end a little less bad. My pulse throbbed in my throat, between my thighs, low in my belly. I didn’t feel the chill of the shaded forest as my skin burned.
I wasn’t sure I wanted feelings anymore. Not when they could skip from guilt for my sister to this breathless place between want and fear.
Being dead inside was better than the storm buffeting me from one extreme to another.
“When you performed for me, you seemed to want death, and yet…” He nipped the point between my neck and shoulder, near where he’d cut me with his sword.
Breath seizing, I flinched.
“Yet today you run from death, cower from its promise.” He pulled back, teeth bared in what must’ve been a sneer in this beast man form. “Even you have something to lose. I’ll remember that.”
Then his heat, the tickle of his fur, the rumble of his words were gone. He strode away, tossing over his shoulder, “Hunt’s over.”
It was only as I sucked in fresh air and released the terrible tension in my body, I looked up and saw his friends amongst the trees.
Was it their turn now?
I gripped the rough tree trunk, but instead of coming closer, they melted into the forest, all but one. Cadan watched me, lips pulling in what looked like an apologetic smile.
“Cadan,” the prince’s voice drifted back, “fetch my necklace. That vicious little creature must’ve torn it off.”
I mastered myself enough to retreat as he approached. His gaze alternated between skimming the ground and glancing up at me. Eyebrows pinched together, he surveyed my tattered state.
I refused to cower or be ashamed about how I looked. I’d survived this hunt—that was a thing for pride.
The fact I’d been affected by the prince’s proximity and threat was a different matter. It squirmed in my stomach and just the memory made my cheeks burn. Still, I gritted my teeth and watched the fae doing his prince’s bidding.
I couldn’t decide whether Cadan was a friend or servant to the prince. He seemed more friend, with the familiar way they spoke to each other and the fact he’d been included in the hunt. Yet most times I saw him, he was running around after the prince, serving him.
He ducked and snatched up the necklace. When he rose, he paused and took a step closer.
I backed off, keeping the same distance between us. The prince had said the hunt was over, but he wasn’t here to make sure his friends kept to that.
Cadan stopped, exhaled, then inclined his head. The dim light glimmered on his silvery hair. I could understand why the old stories thought fae otherworldly—he didn’t look like a creature of flesh and blood at this moment.
One hand raised, palm out, he ducked again and placed something on the ground before taking a few steps away and retreating into the forest.
Only when he was out of sight did I go and look at what he’d left. A jar of cobalt blue glass. The handwritten label readWound Salve – heals cuts and bruises.
Frowning, I glanced the way he’d gone, but could see no sign of him. His Prickishness had only ordered him to fetch the necklace. He’d said nothing about helping me.
I started back towards the stables, following the sound of the men’s voices as I cradled the salve. If it was anything like whatever Celestine had put in my bath that first night, it would heal my injuries with astonishing speed.
