Page 18 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Then the words actually land.

Stones. She knows.

No, wait, that doesn’t make sense. We’ve done this dozens of times, going out in guard leathers in the city, never with masks, and no one’s ever recognized us. She can’t know.

I keep my expression easy, let a lazy grin spread across my face like nothing’s wrong. “Oh yeah?” I say lightly. “And where would that be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, voice dripping with false innocence. “Somewhere with beautiful grounds, from what I hear.”

This cunning little fox has me. Fuck, why do I like it so much?

“Little fox, show me your face,” I say, and I hear the want in my voice.

“Oh, Ryewood,” she says sweetly, feigning innocence. “We can’t have you running to Daddy about tonight’s happenings, now can we?”

My name. On her lips.

Everything in my head goes blank.

She spins away so fast it’s all I can do to reach out and grab something, anything.

She clearly thinks she’s gotten away until we both stop at the same time.

Our gazes fall to my hand holding her tail, stretched taut between us.

Her expression is shocked and fucking adorable.

“So that’s it?” I say. “You just disappear. At least give me your name.”

I wiggle her tail. I can’t help the grin that follows. A smile plays across her face too.

There she is.

“Oh, sweet spare,” she says lightly. “I don’t owe you anything. But you owe me a new tail.”

Before I can even process what she means, silver flashes, and the fabric of her skirt falls away, severed in a single slice, left dangling uselessly in my hand.

Fuck me. No hesitation, no second thought, just precision. My heart is racing, and it has absolutely nothing to do with fear.

I look up. She’s standing there in fitted pants now, knives strapped to both thighs, posture loose and ready like this is the most herself she’s been all night.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?” I say, my gaze dragging slow and unapologetic. “And knives, apparently.”

“What can I say? I like to be prepared.” She shrugs, easy as anything. “Never know when the Spare Prince might try to corner you in an alley.”

Something about that confident ease draws me forward, and I take a step toward her. Panic flashes across her face, and she bolts deeper into the alley, away from me.

She plants a foot on the guard’s shoulder and uses him like a step, vaulting upward in one fluid motion. Her fingers catch the window ledge, feet finding stone like it knows her. She climbs fast, with an impossible ease.

“Wait—”

She doesn’t slow. Not until she’s looking down at me from well over a story above.

How the fuck did she get up there that quickly?

“Better get back to the castle,” she calls down sweetly. “Wouldn’t want King Eldric wondering where his Spare Prince has wandered off to.”

Then she’s swinging herself onto the roof. She peeks over the edge once more and gives me a small, taunting wave.