Chapter 11
“Blaéz, wait, wait!”Darci pushed against his chest, stopping him before he lowered her to the bed. Something wasn’t right. He appeared too distant. Earlier, she’d brushed it off as him being worried about Finnén. Butnowhe would give up on the bet, a mere two days before the wedding?
He sat up and glowered. “What?”
She ignored his rudeness and smiled. “Nothing. I’m just wondering what kind of punishment I’ll mete out to you.”
“Punishment?” He shot to his feet, fury transforming his usually handsome features into a visage of violence. “Don’t you ever use those words on me!”
Her smile dropped, her stomach tensing in wariness. She’d never seen him this way, filled with bitter anger. Darci got to her feet and straightened her dress. “Blaéz?”
He didn’t respond and continued pacing, digging his fingers through his clipped hair as if he wanted to pull the strands out of his scalp. His mouth thinned into a harsh line.
Blaéz, she mind-linked to him.What’s wrong?
And nothing. Yet he was right here in front of her. Her stomach knotted, dread escalating. She didn’t care that the image in front of her looked like Blaéz.This isn’t my mate.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He pivoted to her, a savage flash of victory animating his eyes. “Finally.”
A wave of his hand, and his short, dark hair became lighter, lengthening to brush his shoulders. Blue eyes turned gray, and his build grew leaner.
Horror swept through her like a windstorm. “Finnén.”
“Indeed, it is I.” His insolent gaze raked down her body and back up again. He strolled to her. “I never expected you to taste so good.”
“What?” Her lips formed the word.
“Don’t you remember our lovely little kiss outside the castle? I knew you couldn’t tell the difference then.” He chuckled, stroking her cheek as she stood there frozen in shock. “And since I promised theservanta show to remember, I am going to fuck you, at least now I know I’ll enjoy it, too.”
Her heart crashed against her ribs, terror breaking through her paralysis. She shoved his hand off her face. “You will never be even a smidgen of what he is, you bastard! What have you done to him?”
Darci didn’t even see him move. A sharp crack resounded. Her head snapped back, and she fell onto the bed, the pain stinging her cheek and rebounding in her skull.
“Never blaspheme me!”
Her face burned as if on fire. A sticky wetness trailed from the corner of her mouth. Despite the fear riding her, Darci scrambled off the mattress and stood. The room spun. She grabbed onto the nightstand and swiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand.
Finnén ambled closer, a sneer on his lips.
Blinking away her tears, Darci cautiously took a step back. He had Blaéz trapped somewhere, probably unconscious. That must be why he wasn’t answering her.
“There will be no wedding—awedding?” He taunted with a sneer. “I cannot believe the depths mybrotherhas sunk to. But that’s all taken care of. I took onhisglamour and negated all the arrangements you made for the flowers, the cake, the caterers—everything. Told them to throw it all away.”
She dashed at her wet eyes and glared at Finnén. “What did you do to him?”
He ignored her question and stepped closer, his expression darkening with covetousness. “Remove your dress, or I’ll tear it off.”
Darci had to force herself not to retreat again. Assholes like this dickweed seemed to thrive on fear. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you.”
He laughed. His eyes turning to gray stones as he reached for the front of her dress.
Her teeth clamped down, Darci summoned her obsidian dagger. A wave of relief rolled through her when the cold hilt materialized in her palm. As he grabbed the scooped neckline, she pulled back her arm and, putting all her weight behind her aim, she slammed the blade into his sternum.
Finnén stumbled back, shock widening his eyes. “You bitch!” His fist lashed out.
If she thought the slap earlier had hurt, the punch he landed in her belly sent her crashing to the floor and curling up into a ball, unable to breathe—so sure she’d die at the agony spreading through her.
