I breathe a sigh of relief and glance at my sister. It irks to have to say it but… “Thank you,” I mouth.
Andraste gives me a sad little smile.
Time to throw the dice and play the game of my life.
I don’t join the dancing.
There’s nothing to celebrate.
And I can’t stand to remain with my mother’s delegation, watching as she introduces Andraste to envoys and foreign nobles from other courts.
Instead, I grab two glasses of elderberry wine, drain one, and then sip the other as I weave through the gathering.
There has to be some way to escape this trap, though I’m aware that two of my mother’s guards stalk me circumspectively. Running is clearly not an option.
Perhaps the Queen of Aska will take mercy on me and welcome me into her court in exchange for every little secret I know about my mother? Unlikely, though, and my mother would make it her life’s duty to have me assassinated.
Painfully.
I’m running out of options when a shiver trickles down my spine; a sense of trepidation hovering in the air, like the lingering portent of a lightning strike about to detonate.
I turn.
For a second, there’s nothing there but myriad dancing fae.
Then shadows melt together, forming into a tall, masked figure that stalks through the crowd as if it doesn’t exist. It’s as if Kato, the god of death, walks among us. But this is no god, slumbering now in the memories of the fae. This male is carved out of hard, heated flesh and practically poured into black leather. Despite my anxiety, I can’t help noticing the breadth of those shoulders and the powerful flex of his thighs.
The fae of mother’s court flee before him like deer scattering before an approaching predator.
Because that’s exactly what he is.
Even I feel it.
Piercing eyes meet mine through the eyeholes of the mask he wears; a feathered raven’s beak cascading over his brow. Though no crown graces his temples, power drips from him, leaving me with no doubt of whom I face.
Thiago, Prince of Evernight.
Lord of Whispers and Lies. Master of Darkness.
I hadn’t expected the sheer boiling power contained within him, or the shock of anticipation—the feeling I’d somehow spent my entire life drifting toward this single moment. The sensation punches the breath out of my lungs and sets my heart racing.
I’ve never been afraid of man or immortal, but I suffer a moment of trepidation as I realize the black cloak eddying behind him isn’t fabric, but a pair of black wings that hint at his impure heritage. He calls himself Seelie, but my mother claims he has impure blood. And the wings betray him, for no Seelie bears the features of a beast.
I blink, and the wings vanish. There’s only a man before me, draped in a black cloak.
But I swear I saw them.
“Princess,” he says. The way he looks at me makes me feel as though nothing else exists. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
All night, I’m sure.
I force my spine to straighten. To become steel. You are an Asturian princess, and you will not yield to the Prince of Evernight. “Prince Thiago, you honor us with your presence.”
His gaze drops, the faintest flicker of—is it disappointment?—marring those dangerous eyes. “The pleasure is mine.”
Why, then, do I feel as if I’ve somehow failed some test?
Perhaps he thought I’d be more welcoming.
If so, then he’s a fool.
“I don’t believe pleasure has anything to do with it.”
His eyes sparkle as he lifts my hand to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the back of it. “Yet.”
Oh, so that’s the way he means to play.
I tear my hand free, though I can’t deny a shiver runs down my spine, and the sensation of his caress lingers. “Ever.”
“Did your mother not warn you? I’ve never met a challenge I’ve failed to surmount.”
“But you’ve never met me before.”
“Haven’t I?” Another mysterious smile. “We’re to spend the next three months together. Be careful with your challenges. I always play to win.”
“Ah, but what precisely are we playing for?”
“Hearts, perhaps.”
It steals a laugh from me. Oh, he’s so polished, he’s practically gleaming. “You think to steal my heart?”
“I don’t think that at all. I think you’ll give it to me.”
“Never in a thousand years.”
The prince leans closer. “There you go again, Princess. Opposing me. Daring me. I think I’m going to enjoy the next three months. Very much so.”
Of course, he will. He’s the one with the power. “Perhaps. You might regret them instead.”
“Regret meeting you? Never. Dance with me,” he says.
I press my hand to his chest. “But you didn’t say please.”
The faintest of smiles graces his hard mouth. “I never say please.”
I’ve heard that about him too—I can see it in the flex of his jaw, as if a part of him yearns to reach out and take my arm. He’s not the sort of male you deny. A warlord, a conqueror, a prince who stole his kingdom from its rightful heirs.
Time to prove I’m no mere pushover. “Sorry. You don’t own me just yet.”
And then I whirl away into the watching crowd, leaving him staring after me.
Want to know more about the Prince of Evernight?
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Also by Bec McMaster
DARK COURT RISING
Promise of Darkness
Crown of Darkness
Curse of Darkness
Novellas in same series:
Seduced By Darkness
LEGENDS OF THE STORM SERIES
Heart Of Fire
Storm of Desire
Clash of Storms
Storm of Fury
Master of Storms
Queen of Lightning
Legends of the Storm Boxset 1-3
COURT OF DREAMS SAGA
Thief of Dreams
Thief of Souls
Thief of Hearts
LONDON STEAMPUNK SERIES
Kiss Of Steel
Heart Of Iron
My Lady Quicksilver
Forged By Desire
Of Silk And Steam
Novellas in same series:
Tarnished Knight
The Clockwork Menace
LONDON STEAMPUNK: THE BLUE BLOOD CONSPIRACY
Mission: Improper
The Mech Who Loved Me
You Only Love Twice
To Catch A Rogue
Dukes Are Forever
From London, With Love
London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy Boxset 1-3
London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy Boxset 4-6
DARK ARTS SERIES
Shadowbound
Hexbound
Soulbound
Dark Arts Box set 1-3
BURNED LANDS SERIES
Nobody's Hero
The Last True Hero
The Hero Within
The Burned Lands Complete Trilogy Boxset
SHORT STORIES
The Many Lives
