Page 10 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
I hadn’t cried for her in years, but here I was, kneeling at her killer’s feet, tears about to spill right before my blood did.
I’d been numb for so long, this maelstrom of feelings was overwhelming, threatening to drag me under.
And yet it was also exquisite. Hate. Pain. Grief. Guilt. Fear. Anger—no, make thatrageat the way Eric had betrayed me and the fact my revenge had been cut down before it had bloomed. It burned and froze me in turn, a reminder that I was, in fact, alive.
For the first time in a decade, I felt it.
“Hmm.” He tossed his head. “No preference. Very well.” He shrugged and brought down the terrible weight of that sword.
I braced myself.
It whistled past my ear, wafting my hair.
It stopped.
My held breath huffed out as, slowly, the blade’s tip pressed into the point between my neck and shoulder. Pain bloomed there, and I couldn’t help the soft sound I made as it shivered down my nerves.
Cold, then hot, my skin flushed as he pulled the point away and warm blood welled and trickled down my chest.
My pulse roared in my ears as though questioning why—howI was still alive.
He’d spared me.
And yet the cruel smile he gave as he bent down said mercy was a word he had no understanding of. His palm pressed into the cut, making the pain throb, before he dragged it up my throat to my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
His pupils had blown wide, like he enjoyed my fear and pain—my punishment. “I claim you. Your life is mine. Every part of you is mine.”
Unable to move, unable to so much as breathe, I stared as he pulled away and swiped his tongue over his bloodied palm. When he lowered his hand, my blood was smeared upon his cheeks. “Mm. I wonder if every part of you is as sweet.”
My mind stuttered over his words. I was his? What did that mean?
With a quick sweep of his sword, he cut the tie from my wrists. It wasn’t as though I was a threat now I had no iron blade.
“On your feet.”
I clenched my jaw and remained kneeling. I wouldn’t be ordered around by a fucking fae.
But instead of glowering at my disobedience, he smiled, a look of pure, feline pleasure. “Prideful little human, I don’t need any more reasons to punish you, but I’ll gladly take them. I’ll make a catalogue of them and believe me when I say I’ll make you pay for each and every one.”
I stayed there, weighing my options. There weren’t many. And I didn’t want to give him any more pleasure by refusing to obey.
At last, knees shaking, I rose. “What are you going to do with me?”
His teeth flashed pale against his blood-stained skin as he bent close. I tried to back away, but he thrust a hand into my hair and gripped.
He brought his face an inch from mine. The smell of my own blood was a coppery accompaniment to his musky scent. He took his time, holding my gaze before tightening the fist in my hair and tilting my head back. “Don’t you know, little bird? Cats like to play with the little creatures they catch.”
6
His threat echoed in my ears as he marched me through the cracked marble halls of his palace. We crossed what I thought was a courtyard, with ferns and saplings growing amongst pale rock and a glittering fountain at the centre. But when I looked up, I found the roof was a broken glass dome. It had once been a room. Some pieces of glass remained, but most of the steel frame stood empty, open to the night sky above.
Stars winked back at me as if saying this was my fate written in them. Every action I’d taken over the past decade had led here.
Claws prickled my shoulder. “I didn’t tell you to slow down.”
I’d been gawping. Swallowing, I hurried on, the prince a constant presence just behind me. At least the walk gave me a chance to sort through and examine the jumbled emotions that chased through me. It had been so long, my body hummed withso muchfeeling like a battle raged inside.
Fear—that seemed to be the primary one. Anger bubbled beneath it, and frustration was a hard ball in my stomach.
