Page 66 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
My pulse throbbed in my temples. The world went suddenly very bright, very sharp, like it was made of razor blades and lit by a thousand suns.
He found her.
No. I managed to shake my head the barest amount. No. That wasn’t possible. That wasn’t what I saw. That wasn’t…
Grey splotches invaded my field of view, growing with the same pulsing beat of my heart.
No.
His eyes widened, just a touch, and he loosened his grip until I could suck in air that tasted of him. Musk and new growth; the fresh breeze on a summer day.
It was only once I caught my breath that he bent closer, nose almost touching mine. “I didn’t kill your sister. But…” He smiled slowly, and it was the cruellest smile of all. It glinted in his eyes like a freshly honed blade. “Maybe I’ll kill you. If you’re dead, surely that will break the curse.”
My brain scrambled over his words, searching for meaning in the rubble he’d left my mind, my beliefs, mylife. Already I was shaking my head, though I didn’t fully understand why. Not yet.
Fae couldn’t outright lie. He hadn’t killed her.
I’d been wrong.
All this time.
All this plotting.
All my plans.
Ruins. Just like this place.
I’d learned the hoop and the silks, blistering my hands, enduring countless scrapes and bruises. All so I could take Zinnia’s spot in the show and keep a place in the Gilded Suns rather than being kicked out. I’d forged my body into something that could endure night after night, that could excel in its performances, so when word reached the prince, pushed towards him by my own manipulations and whispers, he wouldn’t be able to help himself but ask us to perform. Eventually. It had taken years—years.
I’d even grown my hair like hers, done my makeup like hers, worn outfits like hers—all so it would be likeshewas the one getting her revenge.
And here I stood, his hand around my throat, the aching ghost of his fingers still between my legs, the shattered fragments of failed vengeance cutting my soul to pieces.
And he…
My mind finally clambered over all that and reached the last part of what he’d said.
He was going to kill me.
My head was still shaking.
“It won’t,” I croaked past his grip. “Killing me won’t lift the curse.”
I had no idea if that was true or not. But it was the lie I needed to save my life.
The skin around his eyes tightened as he considered me for a long while.
“You would say that. A lying human and her lying little mouth.” He sneered, stretching me further and further back over the balustrade. If he let go now, I would fall head-first.
My muscles strained, drawn out. I clung to the handrail like that might save me. I doubted it would.
Even if he didn’t drop me, he had only to sink his claws into my flesh as he had the fae who’d threatened to put me out of my misery.
“But if that is true and I kill you now, I’ll never be able to make you lift the curse.” He fixed me with a glare before sweeping away inside, leaving me to stumble from the balustrade.
His voice drifted through the open door. “Clean yourself up and get dressed, witch. You’ve got a hell of a day ahead of you.”
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