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“Xingyin, I know you’re angry. But don’t hit me again.”

“Angry? There’s no word to describe how I feel right now. How much I despise you.”

He leaned closer to me, his voice dropping to a sinuous whisper. “It was your choice to make. You took the pearls from the dragons. Don’t deny that you wanted their power, too.”

I flinched from the undeniable truth he spoke, but he was wrong about me. Yes, I wanted their power. But not for the reasons he craved. Yet my chest caved then at a sudden realization. “Did you pretend to care for me because you knew the Jade Dragon Bow’s heritage? Because you suspected I could control it . . . and through it, the dragons?”

“No.” He spoke without hesitation. “I can’t deny I was intrigued by your connection with the bow. And what I learned in the Eastern Sea gave me a reason to keep you close. At first as an ally, and then—” A dull flush spread across his face. “What exists between us began before that. The first time I watched you shoot was when you moved something in me. I did not expect to feel what I did. It was partly why I decided to give up on the pearls and return home. I wanted no more lies between us.”

Even now, a part of me ached at his confession, but I would not let it show. He would never know how much he had hurt me.

He continued, “I almost wish the emperor had not given you this task. I never wanted to set myself against you. Yet as fate would have it, during your audience with the emperor, he revealed the one thing for which I had been waiting all these years. A fortuitous coincidence which I could not ignore.”

“Not so fortuitous for me.” I searched his face, but there was no sign that doing this to me had hurt him, too. “You knew I needed the pearls to save my mother. You knew what I went through to get them, and still you took them from me.” I fought to steady myself, to make one last appeal. “If you care for me as you say you do, give me the pearls and let me go.”

With one step he closed the distance between us, dragging me into his arms. Against my burning skin, his hands were like ice. “The pearls are essential for my people’s future, so we can throw off the perpetual threat of the Celestial Kingdom. With the dragons at our command, we’ll defeat them easily. Once that happens, I swear I’ll find a way to release your mother. We will have everything we ever wanted, that we never dreamed possible. Family, power, and each other. All you need to do is trust me.”

I wrenched free of his hold. My skin crawled from his touch when just a day ago I had yearned for him. His vision of our future . . . how it repelled me. “I gave the dragons my word. My promise means something to me, even if yours means nothing to you.” I could have said more. I could have raged, yelled, and cursed at him, but an aching weariness gripped me now, a sickness of the heart. I turned from him, wanting him to leave, unable to bear his presence a moment longer.

His sigh was heavy, cloaked in regret. “Take your time to think things through. Either way, you’ll not leave here.” He strode to the doors and tugged them apart. “It’s useless to try to escape. If you persist in acting the fool, I’ll have no choice but to treat you as one.”

The doors closed after him. My anger roiling over, I snatched his cup and hurled it at the wall, the delicate porcelain shattering into countless fragments—impossible to ever be made whole again.

32

Despite his warning, I tried to escape. I had to. But the windows were sealed and the doors firmly locked. I barged through them once, when an attendant brought me my meal—only to crash into the guards outside. Unfortunately, they were seasoned veterans, not green soldiers I might catch unaware. I fought them with all my might, but they subdued me easily, tossing me back into my room.

Slumping onto the stool, my fingers drummed the table in an incessant rhythm. How could I get out of this accursed place? How could I retrieve the pearls? And my mother . . . my hope of freeing her had dwindled to a desperate fantasy, just as when I had served in the Golden Lotus Mansion. In one stroke, Wenzhi had ripped my dreams apart, along with my heart. My nails dug into the table, prying loose thin slivers of wood.

An ache clawed at me, sharp and relentless, just when I believed myself numbed from his betrayal. My mind drifted to our time together—the memories pained me, but I was in no mood to be kind to myself. I thought back on all he had said and done: his insistence that we keep the Jade Dragon Bow secret, his midnight walk at Shadow Peak, brushing off my interest in the Eastern Sea library. Nothing glaring by itself, yet taken together, they formed a more sinister whole. Even his reticence in speaking of himself should have served as a warning, to me more than anyone. But I had been so wrapped up in my own emotions, ambitions, and desires, that I was oblivious to all else. My vanity was at fault, too—I could not deny being dazzled by his reputation and flattered by his attention. I had wanted him to be honorable, someone I could trust, and so I had cast everything he did into that light. He had deceived me, but I had let him. If only I had heeded Teacher Daoming’s warning, that a clouded mind would lead to disaster. And now, it was too late.

The doors slid open. I shot to my feet, scanning the room for anything I could use as a weapon. Since the last time, Wenzhi had ordered the removal of all the hairpins. I could have subdued an attendant with my hands, but after my attempt to flee, it was now the soldiers who brought me my meals.

It wasn’t a guard. Wenzhi strode in, his indigo brocade robe swirling around his feet. A cloth belt studded with amber was fastened around his waist. Upon his hair rested a crown of white jade, set with a glowing emerald. My eyes narrowed at the sight of it, the price of his honor.

I sat back down, refusing to acknowledge his presence. Instinctively, my fingers clawed at the metal around my wrists. No matter how I yanked at them, or slammed them against the walls, they remained intact—although my skin was bruised and scraped raw.

As his gaze fixed upon my arms, I tucked them behind me. He stalked forward and pulled them out. A soothing coolness seeped into me from his touch, as the marks on my skin vanished.

I jerked free of his hold. I did not thank him. I did not look at him.

He sat down across from me. “Don’t harm yourself again. My patience is not boundless.”

I swung to him, my voice thick with venom. “What else will you do? Beyond capturing me, sealing my magic, and stealing my possessions?”

The gem in his crown flared brighter, perhaps channeling his ire. Yet his expression remained inscrutable as he leaned toward me. “What can I do to put you at ease?” he asked, as though he were a gracious host and I, his honored guest.

I lifted my shackled wrists to him.

A corner of his mouth curved up. “I’m afraid not. At least not until you come to your senses.”

“I have come to my senses,” I shot back. “Now that I see you for what you are: a liar and a thief.”

He drew away, his expression shuttering. If he was wounded by my words, I was glad for it.

“Something occurred to me,” I said. “You, a Demon Prince, deceived the Celestial Emperor. You infiltrated the Celestial Kingdom, the closest circles of their court, and spied upon them. Does that not violate your truce? Surely the Celestial Kingdom’s allies will rise with them against you.”

He shrugged, showing none of the concern I had hoped for. “One might argue that I served them well. At least while I was theirs to command.”