He holds up his hands in surrender, his eyes moving from me and landing on the book that lays open on the desk.
He walks over to it, and his fingers glide over the pages. “Learn anything interesting?”
“It’s all interesting,” I tell him, returning to the chair, hating the flustered feeling that’s settled in the pit of my stomach, desperate to focus on anything else. “Question, though, what of the hybrids? The book states that you can only form the Etherbond with one beast that shares the same elemental connection. What of those who can command two? Those like you. Could you bond twice?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He scans the pages lazily. “I’ve never come across a phoenix.”
He says it so plainly, as if in doing so I’d miss what it was hewasn’tsaying.
“But you’ve come across a wraithwolf.”
He doesn’t respond, and now I have so many questions, but before I can open my mouth to ask the first one, he’s already moving toward the door.
“A conversation for another time. I came to tell you that I won’t be able to come by later for our lesson. Something came up, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And then he’s gone, not even allowing me the chance to say goodbye.
But why would he?
He is the prince, and I am no one.
Suddenly, the room feels bleaker than before. Darker. Smaller.
I’m not used to being alone. I rarely ever was.
And although I can’t say that I trulylikethe prince…his presence is still better than none at all.
How will I survive another two months of this?
Walking to the bathroom, I move to turn on the shower, but before I can, the door to my room opens for a second time, and I know it’s not Ishla because Ishlaalwaysknocks, and I’m fuming.
“I thought I told you—” The words die in my throat as I leave the bathroom behind because it’s not the prince standing in my room, and my heart falters.
He’s tall. A similar height to Jax with that same thick, onyx hair, sharp jaw, and straight nose. They’re related. I can tell that much. But this man appears a few years older and wears a devilish grin, one I’ve never seen on Jax before.
Alarm bells ring in my head.
He closes the door behind him and leans against the wall, his hazel eyes scanning me slowly, deliberately.
His grin widens.
“Do the men of this palace simply not know how to knock?” I cross my arms, keeping my voice steady, refusing to be afraid or feel threatened.
“Sorry, darling,” he says in a sexy drawl that makes me want to roll my eyes. He scans me once more before tilting his head. “I was expecting to find my cousin. But I must say, I much prefer this view.”
Cousin.
Which means this is… “Theo Bray, I presume?”
Son of the king’s younger brother, a man I’ve heardcountlessrumors about, but with the way he’s looking at me—like the hunter who’s found his prey—they may not be rumors after all.
Theo Bray, the shameless flirt.
Theo Bray, the womanizing rake.
Theo Bray, the man who can drop your panties with little more than a wink.
“How unfair of you to know my name when I haven’t had thepleasure of learning yours.”
