“He does now.”
Chapter two
Reading Is Fun!
Nora
Sorren takes a step closer. “It’s true,” he says. “My uncle attacked me. Left me for dead so he could claim my crown.” He pauses, drags in a breath, then continues, “Since I am the only son of the recently departed king,” sorrow flashing across his face, gone almost instantly, “the throne belongs to me. But if I’m eliminated, he’ll be next in line.”
“So you’re like…what?” I say slowly. “Bunny royalty?”
I almost laugh.
Because this entire conversation is absolutely ridiculous. When a naked man appears in your workplace, why is he never just, like, a regular accountant from Mesa who got lost?
I wait for Sorren to laugh too. To give me some sign that he doesn’t believe this nonsense.
But he just stands there.
Stoic. Solid.
Still extremely naked.
My eyes dart down, just for a second, then snap back up like I’ve touched a hot stove.
Nope. Not doing that.
My eyes drift again because…wow. I jerk my gaze up.
Traitors. My eyeballs are traitors.
This is not the time to check out the hot, crazy guy. What I should be doing is planning a way out of here before I become a very uncomfortable bullet point in the next district newsletter or, even worse, a true-crime podcast with a title likeHop into Hell: The Nora Hayes Story.
“I am not a bunny,” he says stiffly. “I am a lagomorph.”
“That did not help.”
He inclines his head slightly, as if acknowledging a fair point. He glances at the door and says, “We should leave now so Uncle Rion cannot track us.”
I tilt my head. “You meanyou. Can’t trackyou.”
“I have marked you. I—” He falters. “We are tied now, you and me. To my uncle, we are the same.”
“Excuse me?” I practically shriek. “Marked?” I repeat, even louder. “As in what? Like a Sharpie? A Post-it note?Atracking device? What the hell does that mean?”
For the second time, his attention flicks to my finger, with the planet Band-Aid. I look too. Saturn stares back, its rings perfectly aligned.
“When I bit you,” he says, “it was not merely to escape. It was recognition.”
My pulse gives a startled kick. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
“It means my enemies will find you,” he says. “They’ll smell me on you. My uncle’s hunters will know. Your blood carries my magic now.”
My stomach lurches like I just stepped off a curb that isn’t there.
“That’s not—” I take a shaky step back. “That’s not a thing.”
“They will not distinguish between us,” he continues. “To them, you are now part of my claim.”
