Kael barely remembered crossing the marble floor.
One moment he was watching her spin, nearly translucent in that gods-cursed gown, the next he was there, fingers biting into her waist, hauling her out of the noble’s grip with no more care than one might give, tearing a snake away from the path of a child.
Maris gasped, eyes wide, stunned.
He heard her voice in that tiny, broken place inside him, but his rage was far too loud to answer it.
Without a word, he lifted her over one shoulder, ignoring her startled cry, and stormed from the hall.
The courtiers drew back like dead leaves before a storm wind.
He did not look at them.
Instead, Kael shot a single silent order with one glacial glance to Corin and Riven, who materialized at his flanks.
Take him. Below.
They understood. The masked noble was seized without protest, even with his bravado crumbling as the twins dragged him away into the bowels of the castle.
Maris didn’t see. She was too shocked, dangling in Kael’s unyielding grip as he climbed the tower steps.
Mine.
The word pounded through Kael’s skull, each syllable a drumbeat of fury.
Mine, mine, mine. You do not dance with them. You do not even breathe their air.
But beneath the wild, unnatural possessive anger, another feeling clawed its way up from the blackest depths of him.
Something strange. Urgent. A hunger to keep her, control her, and gods curse him, protect her.
It made no sense. Three days ago, he’d have torn out a mortal’s throat for looking at him with half the defiance Maris showed. Three days ago, he had wished her away, a useless burden.
And now he would kill half this kingdom to guard her.
He hated it. Hated that she had infected him somehow, that a slip of a human, fragile, breakable, cursed by the gods to live but a handful of years — had hooked her claws in something he hadn’t known could still bleed.
Mine to break, he thought, mine to protect, mine to ruin.
They reached her chambers in what felt like a heartbeat and a century all at once.
Kael slammed the door behind them with a force that rattled the hinges.
Only then did he set her down, hands still crushing around her slender arms, barely resisting the urge to shake sense into her.
Maris stared at him, eyes huge, lips parted. There was no color in her cheeks now only the startled, pale terror of a creature that had glimpsed the wolf’s teeth too late.
Her gown clung to her like water, every delicate curve exposed, and Kael felt his mind snap.
Look at her — he thought savagely, fragile as spun glass, and yet she tempts every demon I ever tried to bury.
He raked his eyes down her throat, where he could still see the flutter of her frantic pulse. If he wanted, he could take her. Right here. Show her why no one else dared claim what was his.
He forced air through clenched teeth, willing himself to calm, at least enough not to ruin her completely.
I should chain her to this room. I should cut the hands from every male who even dreams of her.
He growled low, the sound barely tame.
