“You wouldn’t be if you saw what it wants to do to you.”
My insides contract at the wicked quirk of that full mouth. “Is that so?” he asks in a voice like sun-warmed honey. Or maybe it’s just that stupidly befuddled brain of mine, thinking of honey and sunbathing and wicked princes.
“Definitely pain,” I say. “Maybe some torture.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he teases, and everything inside of me ignites again.
Those gold-flecked brown eyes meet mine, a barrage of emotions I can’t begin to separate warring in their depths. Ushering me to the side, he surveys the room and leans so close that I can smell the warm spice, iron, and bergamot scent of his soap. A hand lifts to sweep the side of my jaw, the feel of his fingers velvet soft on my skin. Silenced by the unexpected caress, I drag my gaze away from his, looking anywhere but at him.
He shouldn’t be touching me like this.
Lookingat me like this.
But I don’t want him to stop.
“By the maker, I didn’t expect you,” he whispers. Breathless at the butterflies swarming my chest, I open my mouth to reply with something obnoxiously clever, but he beats me to it, the turnabout and urgency of his next words making my overheated blood turn to ice. “Before the evening is over, I’ll arrange for a portal back to Coban.”
I falter. Coban, yes. That’s what I want. Isn’t it?
I feel a sudden tension flood his body. I follow his gaze. He’s staring at the crown prince. Who is staring atus. Helena whispers something into his ear, and Prince Javed’s body goes preternaturally still. The singular focus of that unblinking, piercing gaze makes my breath fizzle.
Roshan’s jaw tightens as his brother makes a beeline toward us, directly through the dancers, leaving chaos and collisions in his wake. Conversation stalls and necks crane to see who has singled out the prince’s attention, and my heart triples its pace when he stops a foot away. His peculiar focus is indeed reminiscent of a cobra on the hunt for prey.
“Lady Suraya, you have been avoiding me all evening,” Prince Javed says softly with a disarming smile, completely ignoring his brother. The full effect of his charm is dazzling, but that smile goes nowhere near his eyes. Instead, they remain icy and watchful, the predator behind them alive and well. And unerringly focused. Onme.
I suppress a shiver and force a coy smile. “Of course I haven’t, Your Highness.”
“I trust you are enjoying my ball and that my dear brother is not boring you to death.” He still doesn’t address Prince Roshan directly, though I feel him stiffen at my side.
“Yes, I am, thank you,” I reply. “And the prince has been most charming.”
“Has he?” Only then does Prince Javed glance to the man at my side, that ice-blue gaze narrowing with contempt. “There’s no accounting for taste, is there? Allow me to introduce you to my companions.”
I blink. Did he just insult meandhis brother in the same breath?
I bite my tongue to keep from retorting as he introduces me to the four nobles with him, his hand sliding to cup my elbow. “And, ofcourse, you know Lady Helena,” he goes on, gesturing to the woman at his side, whose eyes are poisoned daggers in my direction. “She told me something rather interesting, Lady Suraya. Perhaps you can shed some light upon it. That in the arena, you were in possession of a glowing blade,” he says, and my stomach free falls, panic flaring in every cell.
“Yes, obviously stolen,” she scoffs. “She’s a thief. Country rats aren’t allowed to own jadu-forged weapons.”
Roshan shifts at my side, but I don’t dare look at him, considering heknowsthe dagger is mine. I open my mouth to refute the accusation and close it. I won’t lie, not even to save my skin. The game is up.
I’m definitely going to die.
But the crown prince doesn’t call for any guards or for my head, only stares at me in ominous silence. After an eternity, in slow motion, he takes my limp hand and lifts it to his lips, flipping it at the last moment so my palm faces his mouth. Bending slowly, he presses a kiss to the heart of my palm. My heart climbs into my throat when cool lips graze my skin, the scrape of something wet making revulsion sour my stomach.
Did he just fuckinglickme?
Prince Javed throws his head back and touches his tongue to the roof of his mouth as though tasting the most decadent wine. His throat works when he swallows, and he drops that serpentine gaze to mine. For a second, his eyes flash, and bloody tendrils seem to writhe in the whites, but I blink, and they’re gone.
Fuck!I need to get my fear and deranged imagination under control.
“You taste... like divinity.”
I only just manage to hide my revolted shudder as Javed’s hooded stare lifts and his jaw hardens, a horrid, exultant look spreading across his face when he straightens. I feel his fingers slithering down my forearm in a deliberate caress, before they slip into my clammy palm. Eyes glittering with fanatic heat, he yanks me away fromRoshan’s side. In slow motion, he raises our joined hands above our shoulders.
“I have chosen,” he announces in a voice that makes all the chatter in the room come to an abrupt halt. “Suraya Saab shall be my bride.”
The declaration of ownership echoes in the hall like the clang of a death bell, and then the room breaks out in polite, lukewarm applause. Panic rises in me in a blinding wave. Did the prince just announce that he’s chosenme? My gaze crashes into Roshan’s furious stare, his lips a flat line and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looks like he’s on the verge of attacking his brother.
