“What the hells was that?” I demand, and his eyes flick to mine, but they’re not indigo so much now as a bright, tempestuous violet.
“You saidanything.”
“Yes, because I thought you were clever!” Anger grows with every syllable and my hands shudder on the armrests.
“I told you if you wore that dress it’d be distracting.” His grin is a wild wicked thing, as if the oppressive heat between us is a welcome diversion from the shitfest we just escaped.
I can’t look at him without shivers running across my skin. I bury my face into an accent pillow. “Become your queen? Marry you? Fuck off, Draven.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d marry a broom handle if it secured me my kingdom—”
I drop the pillow. “It’d be more likely to fuck you than me.”
His gaze snaps up, incitement visible in his clenched jaw. “You should be thanking me. Most people would beg for the power that chose you, the might and ambition I’m offering you—”
“I’m sure you’d love for me to beg.”
“Want me to fetch King Altair? I’m sure he’d be happy to execute you instead.”
I force myself to take a breath. To calm. I need to think my next words through carefully.
“I just … I don’t understand how that went so sideways!” I can’t get a firm breath in my lungs. My heart’s beating so wildly I feel its pulsations in my fingertips, my neck, even my toes. It’s rocking my entire body, yet he sits there so calmly. “Why aren’t you upset?”
“Why should I be?”
“You just traded one shackle for another.”
He should be livid, berating me about how much I’ve cost him.
“But this one owes me her life.” His lips twitch and his nostrils flare as he watches me closely. “And at least this manacle comes with much prettier packaging.”
My cheeks heat at the arrogant smile curling the edges of his lips like paper held to flame. He’s just saying that to mess with me. To get a rise. Obviously, I’m not comparable in beauty to the seraph princess Reva, who I’d have thought was a goddess if I didn’t know any better. Maybe he’s just trying to stop me from yelling, but I’m in too pissy of a mood.
“Like the princess was anything to scoff at.”
“Well … you’ve seen what her dad’s like.”
He looks to the chessboard in front of us, making to move one of my white pieces for me. I swat his hand away, taking it for myself. Annoyingly, I realize it was the right play and put the rook down in the spot he’d been angling toward.
My mind whirls as I attempt to figure out my next steps. I’m tied to Draven. I need to know what he needs, what he desires most, so I can barter it for what I want. My family returned to me, a place of power here. As of right now I don’t have another option, as my plan just got chucked through the window. There will be no going to Nevaeh. No reunification with my father, maybe ever. I clench my eyes shut, forming my words carefully.
“You’re out of your betrothal. Free to rule here as the heir now.” I watch his performance of self-satisfied prince critically. There’s a deeper motivation he’s hiding behind the carefully curated mask. “What do you want fromme?”
He smirks, moving to the black pieces and grasping a bishop, and his throat bobs before he says, “I need a partner.” His gaze locks on mine, and the firmness of his stare emphasizes his words are oddly true. No jokes, no games. “My father may want me to rule, but I defied his trust tonight. Put us on the edge of a war he very much does not want. I’m not wholly surewhat my actions tonight mean for me. But I intend to rule with what’s best for all people. I need someone I can rely on. Without question.”
I lean forward. “Where do mortals fit intoyourvision?”
His smile falters. Soberly he says, “I want to end the Selection.”
“End it?” My heart skips a beat. Of all the things I thought he’d say, it wasn’t that. Now he has my attention.
“I don’t believe in the Selection. I know how contrary it sounds, as I got here through being chosen. But I think people should be given the choice to join, not treated like cattle.”
Those wings on his back shift. They’re likely a constant weight and reminder of the ways in which he’s been changed. Unwillingly, like me, at least at first.
“Many would choose to join us on their own. But forcing this assimilation, tearing families apart, the elves enslaving many of their Selected. It breeds resentment, uprisings, hatred. It cannot go on.”
“Do you intend to find a cure for the Curse?”
