“You don’t understand what they did for me,” she countered, a fierce light entering her eyes. “What they sacrificed.”
“Then help me understand, you ungrateful damsel!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but frustration got the better of me. I lost my formality in my speech. “Because from where I’m standing, all I see is a woman who was imprisoned, starved, and claimed like property by monsters, yet who defends them with her dying breath!”
“I’m not dying,” she said, oddly calm in the face of my outburst. “And neither are they, as long as I exist.”
The statement made no sense, yet she delivered it with such conviction that it sent chills racing down my spine. What kind of hold did these creatures have on her? What dark magic bound them together?
“Your soul,” I whispered, a terrible suspicion forming in my mind. “That’s what they’ve taken, isn’t it? Not just your body, but some essential part of your being.”
She laughed then, a sound so genuine it startled me. “My soul is the one thing that’s still entirely mine, Prince Alain. Everything else has been claimed, one way or another.”
She hugged herself, and I hated she felt the need to feel whatever level of shame entered her mind. Isabeau shouldn’t know this kind of life. She was too precious.
I moved back to her, unable to resist the pull she exerted. “Let me help you break free of whatever binds you to them. My family has resources, knowledge about countering the forest’s dark magic.”
“The same knowledge that led your grandfather to execute anyone suspected of magical ability?” she asked, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Somehow I don’t find that reassuring, considering you’ve already seen my eyes flash.”
I flinched. The purges weren’t something my family discussed openly, but they were part of our history, a dark chapter I’d been raised to believe was necessary for the kingdom’s protection. “Those were different times.”
“Were they?” Her gaze was steady, unflinching. “If your father discovered someone with magical blood in Durand today, what would he do?”
I couldn’t answer. We both knew the truth.
“That’s what I thought,” she said softly.
We’d reached an impasse again. The same wall that rose between us every time I visited, built of secrets she wouldn’t share and assumptions I couldn’t abandon. Yet I couldn’t walk away. Something about her pulled at me, demanded I keep trying to break through.
“I’m trying to protect you,” I said finally, moving to stand directly before her. “Even from my own kingdom, if necessary.”
“Why?” The question was simple but loaded with meaning. “Why risk so much for a stranger you found in a cursed castle?”
Because you called to me through dreams. Because I’ve spent my life searching for amber eyes like yours. Because something in me recognized something in you from the moment I lifted you from that cold stone floor.
I couldn’t say any of that. Instead, I cupped her face between my hands, tilting it up so her extraordinary eyes met mine. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, soft despite the hardships she’d endured. Something electric passed between us at the contact, a current of connection that defied rational explanation.
“Because no one deserves to suffer as you have,” I said, my voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “And because I believe there’s more to your story than either of us understands yet.”
Her lips parted slightly, surprise evident in her expression. Perhaps at my touch, perhaps at the sincerity she must have heard in my voice. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, suspended in a strange intimacy neither had anticipated.
Then, without consciously deciding to, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against her forehead in a gesture so tender it surprised even me. Her skin was warm against my mouth,carrying a faint scent like wild roses that transported me instantly back to the courtyard of that ruined castle. Back to the blood roses that had moved with unnatural purpose.
I felt her stiffen at the contact, her breath catching audibly. It lasted only seconds, this unprecedented moment of connection, before I pulled away, already questioning my own actions. This wasn’t like me. I didn’t make impulsive gestures of affection, especially not toward women who might carry the very corruption my family had sworn to destroy. Hell, I couldn’t even claim I courted a princess properly, only bed strangers to never have this kind of tie.
“I’ll send the healer to check your progress,” I said, stepping back, suddenly awkward in a way that felt foreign to me. Princes weren’t supposed to feel awkward. We were trained from birth to project confidence in all situations. “And more food. You need to regain your strength.”
She touched her forehead where my lips had been, her expression unreadable. “And then what? Will you let me go?”
The question hung between us, honest and direct where so much else had been veiled. I owed her the same honesty in return.
“No,” I said simply. “Not back there. Not ever.”
I turned and left before she could respond, before the hurt and betrayal I knew would fill those amber eyes could pierce the armor I’d built around myself. The door clicked shut behind me, the key turning in the lock with a finality that echoed in my chest. Another prison for her, just with silken sheets instead of chains. She was right about that much.
But better a prisoner in Durand than a slave to forest beasts, no matter what twisted loyalty bound her to them. Better alive and resentful than dead in that frozen dungeon. Better with me than with them.
I just needed to make her see that. Before whatever connection bound her to those creatures pulled her back into darkness. Before my own growing attachment to her clouded my judgment beyond repair. Before I completely lost myself to a woman who belonged to monsters.
thirty-seven
