“She’s notyours!” Tesson shouts, diving at me.
I jump back, aware of Harper behind me. Aware that I need to keep myself between him and her.
The sound of Harper withdrawing her dagger rings out from behind me.
“Don’t even think about it,” I growl at her.
“I can help,” she says stubbornly.
“I know you can, but I’m asking that you don’t.”
Tesson begins to slash at me, and I keep avoiding his blade. I have my own dagger at my side, but I don’t reach for it. Even with him armed, he doesn’t stand a chance against me, so I might as well have a little fun. Teach the bastard a little lesson he won’t soon forget.
He slashes his dagger at me haphazardly again, and I step to the side, then follow it up with a punch to his face. The idiot flies back and hits the ground, then scrambles up, nose running withblood. He lets out a weak cry and races at me. I knock his dagger to the ground, kick him in the stomach, then sweep his legs out from under him.
This time it takes him longer to climb to his feet. I circle him, smiling.
“So, you thought hurting Harper would be easy, did you? You didn’t realize that the first time you made a mistake my pretty little fiancé would have a dagger dug so deep into your chest that you’d be able to feel the blood in your heart bleeding out. You didn’t realize that the second the three of us heard about what you did, you’d wish for death.”
“She’s just a fucking whore!” Tesson shouts.
Mistake.I punch him in the face, once, twice, three times. He starts to fall, but I grab his shirt and hold him up, delivering a fourth and fifth punch. His face is a mask of blood when I release him. He takes a weak hand and tries to hit me. I break his arm, and he screams.
I hear the guards coming running down the hall, but I ignore them. He crumbles to his knees, and I kick him onto his stomach. As he tries to crawl away, I think about letting him go, but then he looks up at Harper, and through a gurgling of blood says, “Whore!”
So, I do what any man would do, and I break his leg, my foot snapping the bone in one quick motion. His screaming is a wail of pain, but I’m still not done. I bring my foot down on his broken leg over and over again, listening to him sobbing in pain. I intend to break the other leg too, when a hand catches my wrist. Jerking my head up, I spot Harper, her expression calm.
“Enough.”
“Is it?” I ask her. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s enough,” she says quietly.
I tilt her chin, looking at the mark from the blade on her throat, then stomp on his leg again.
To my surprise, she gives me a little smile. “Seriously, Lucien, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
Now, I’m smiling. She’s never called me Lucien before. It’s always been “prince” this or that.
“Guards,” I say quietly, and they step forward, looking uneasy. “This man attacked my betrothed. Throw him in the dungeons and make sure he never sees the light of day again.”
Harper strokes my wrist with her thumb. “Let’s get your arm fixed up.”
She takes my hand, and my head spins a little. I like the feeling of her hands on me more than I ever imagined. It sends heat spreading out across my skin and through my body in a way that makes it hard to draw in an even breath. It reminds me of our time in the kitchens together.
We’re in her room before too long and her sweet scent of flowers seems to fill the room. She leads me to her bed, and tugs on my wrist until I sit down. I admit I’m a little too eager because of being in a room with Harper and being on her bed, but she walks away from me and comes back with a bowl of water and a cloth. She dips the cloth in the water, rings it out, and then begins cleaning my wound.
I don’t react. I probably should. Injuries should hurt, but this one doesn’t. Not when Harper is sitting so close to me, wearing her tight leathers, touching my skin.
She cleans off my wound, then the rest of my arm with ridiculously gentle strokes.
“It’s not that bad,” I tell her.
She gives me a look. “You’re going to need stitches.”
“Can you do them?” I ask.
Without hesitation, she nods, and I decide to let her. I don’t care so much about another scar as I do about keeping her close. I’d hate to have a healer come and pop this little bubble we’re in.
