Page 39 of Heartless Sinner

Fireworks boomed behind me, and I cried out. Gold exploded across the sky, reflecting off the water below.

Great.

Calira was celebrating while its princess was seconds away from becoming fish food.

Brooks might’ve removed his mask and shoved it into his pocket during our walk up the cliffs, but he still looked like the damn Grim Reaper. I searched the half of his face still visible for one of his usual tells.

A twitch. A smirk. Anything.

But nothing.

All he wanted was my word, but I knew better.

That was all he wanted from me right now.

My stomach twisted every time another piece of rock broke loose under me and vanished into the dark.

Lie to him, Daphne.

“Fine!” I screamed.

His grip loosened another inch, and I slipped lower.

The bastard didn’t say a word. Just waited.

Fine wasn’t good enough for him.

“I swear to you!” I yelled.

He cocked his head to the side. “Swear to me what?”

I was going to punch this motherfucker as soon as I made it to solid ground.

My lungs already felt shredded. There was no way I was reciting his entire psychotic speech about no other man touching me.

“Everything you said!”

“What was everything I said?”

Is he fucking serious?

“That no other man will touch me!”

“That works.”

The asshole actually laughed as he pulled me up.

My dress snagged and ripped as I scrambled up before he changed his mind.

I almost—al-freaking-most—wrapped my arms around him for safety, but stopped myself.

Absolutely the fuck not. We’re not hugging Brooks Byron.

I reached up to make sure my headpiece was still there, grateful Elodie had practically sewn the damn thing into my scalp with hairpins.

I’d be in serious trouble if I lost my tiara. It’d been passed down through generations of Caliran royals.

“I could barely hear you swear it,” Brooks said, stalking closer.