Sin swallowed, fighting the memories his words stirred up, how everyone in the ballroom had seen Max feasting on her.
“And I have to say,” he dipped her low before bringing her back up. “I think I prefer this version better.”
She forced a huff of a laugh to hide the nervousness she felt. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“It’s true.” They spun, and she struggled to keep up with him. “Everyone says the fae covet pretty things. I find flawlessness boring. You have grit, and my father was foolish to keep you as a slave and not a witch at his command. You could do great things outside of this castle, little sinner.”
“Don’t call me that,” it came out before she could stop it.
“But that is what you are. Don’t think I don’t remember the look on your face when you came for my brother.”
Her eyes widened at his in shock over his words. “Those were different circumstances. I thought that was my last meal.”
The brother’s laugh grated against her ears, cold and mocking, each sound like a twisted blade. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin. “And now, little sinner?” His smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of something other than malice crossing his eyes—envy, maybe, or frustration. “What are you desperate for this time? Starving again, perhaps? Or is it someone else you’re hungry for?” His tone turned mocking, but Sin could sense the bitterness beneath his words, a hint of resentment that made her stomach churn.
She tensed, his words grating her into fighting the urge to hit him.
He leaned forward, bringing his lips to her ear. “You can call me Max, if you want,” He cupped her cheek tenderly, as if he saidthe sweetest words. “Though I think I’d prefer it if you called me My Prince.”
She growled. “I won’t be calling you myanything.”
His gaze roamed over her, lingering with cruel intent. The weight of his words pressed into her, making her pulse quicken, but she forced herself to hold her ground, the bitter taste of his words fueling her anger.
Her breath caught, her anger bubbling beneath the surface. She tried to shove him away, but his grip only tightened.
His grip turned painful, cruel. She shoved at him, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and rage. The youngest brother Gideon approached, frowning as he noticed her distress.
“Get off me,” she growled.
Oliver smirked. “Or what? You can’t refuse a prince.”
“Yes, she fucking can.” Max’s voice was low, a deadly current that rippled through the room.
Sin shivered at the cold intensity in his words. Max’s hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, the metal gleaming faintly in the dim light of the ballroom. “Now get your hands off my mate.”
The ballroom stilled, the air thick with tension as all eyes turned to the brothers. Oliver froze, his arrogant smile faltering at the wordmate,as if it were a reminder he didn’t appreciate.His hand twitched, loosening on Sin’s arm.
Then, with a snarl, Oliver lunged, but Max sidestepped with a deadly precision.
The first clash of their swords sent sparks flying—tiny red embers, drifting like fireflies before fading to ash. Sin’s heart leapt into her throat as her eyes locked on one of those embers, watching it fall slowly, as if the world had drawn a deep breath and paused. She watched until the ember blinked out on the polished marble, and with it, the thin illusion of control seemed to vanish.
The world crashed back into motion—steel meeting steel, grunts of fury echoing off the walls. The ballroom around them blurred, but Sin couldn’t tear her eyes away from Max—each movement more deliberate, more savage than the last. Nobles scattered, retreating to the edges of the room as the two brothers engaged in their deadly dance.
Max fought with a savage ferocity, but Oliver also moved like a predator, his snake-shifter abilities giving him the same fluidity as Max. Their strikes were quick, each motion sharp and deliberate. Max’s pupils, now narrow slits, gleamed faintly in the dim light as he moved with deadly intent, his reflexes too sharp, too precise for his brother to keep up.
Sin stood frozen at the edge of the clearing crowd, her breath caught in her throat. Max’s movements were terrifyingly swift, his strikes landing with calculated force. Oliver barely had time to defend himself, each block becoming more desperate under the relentless onslaught, his form beginning to waver.
And then, with a brutal flick of his wrist, Max disarmed him, sending his sword clattering across the marble floor. The room fell deathly silent as Max didn’t hesitate. He dropped his sword, tackling his brother to the ground, fists raised, and his first punch connected with a sickening crack. Oliver’s head snapped back, blood spraying across the polished floor.
But Max wasn’t finished.
With a roar of fury, he brought his fist down again, a devastating blow that left his brother dazed. The crowd remained frozen, stunned into silence, as Max’s bloodied knuckles collided again and again with Oliver’s face. Blood dripped from his knuckles, splattering crimson onto the marble beneath them.
“Max…” Sin’s voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to break through the haze of his rage.
Max stilled, his fist still hovering in the air. Slowly, his breathing began to steady, and at the sound of her voice, his pupils began to dilate, returning to normal. He blinked, as if becoming aware of the world again.
Max slowly rose to his feet, stepping back from his unconscious brother. His chest heaved with the exertion, his knuckles dripping blood. The ballroom was eerily quiet, every eye locked on him, but he didn’t care. His focus was on her—on Sin.
