Page 94 of Heartbreak Prince

He sighs dramatically. “Very well. But to make up for my disappointment, I’d like to hear about your first time.”

“First time getting a glyph set?” I frown, confused, and then I remember who I’m talking to. “You mean the first time I ever had sex.”

He smirks. “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine. Amuse me, while I do my fingernails.”

By the end of the next hour, I have my usual shield glyph back, along with strength on both thumbs, then accuracy, agility, luck, and paralysis. Vawn has shield glyphs on both thumbs, along with vibration, strength, stealth, and his own version of a paralysis glyph, an experiment of sorts. A few of his fingernails are still too damaged for glyphs to take properly.

Vawn puts his tools away, but he seems in no hurry to leave my room. He stretches out on the other side of the bed, and I don’t have the heart to tell him to leave—not after he mentioned that I help him just by existing.

No one has ever felt that way about me. I know my mother and father were glad of my existence and loved me dearly. But it’s a different kind of delight to know that I make Vawn’s life better. I thought it might be the opposite—that I rather irritated him. Maybe I do, sometimes, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s exactly what he needs.

He falls asleep not long after helping himself to half the bed, so I turn down the lamp and settle in beside him.

I said I wouldn’t fuck him again, and I didn’t exactly break my word. He didn’t put his cock inside me. It’s pure semantics, but I allow myself the differentiation, and I also permit myself to scoot very close to him before I relax my body and drift into sleep.

A distant knocking wakes me. Hard, frantic knocking, coming from the adjoining chamber—Vawn’s room.

“Your Highness! Please open the door!”

Vawn stirs, bleary-eyed, and croaks, “What’s happening?”

“Stay there.” I grab one of my knives from the nightstand and slip into the next room, where I call through the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s General Tana Centune. There’s been an attack, an attempt to breach the castle. Lord and Lady Kaenan asked me to rouse the prince and bring him to their safe room.”

Why is she knocking on the door? Where are the guards who were posted in the hall? Maybe they were called away to defend other parts of the castle… but it seems unlikely that all of them would abandon their posts.

“I will pass along the message to the prince,” I call.

For a moment I think the general has left, and then she says, “I need you to open the door and let me see that the prince is safe.”

“He’s fine. He’s in here with me.”

“I’m quite well, General,” calls Vawn.

“Nevertheless, I should lay eyes on you, your Highness. You understand, of course. For the purposes of safety and security, I must see you.”

“The fuck she must,” I mutter, pushing Vawn farther from the door. “I don’t like this.”

The general’s voice rises from beyond the door, sharper this time. “Your Highness! Please! Open the door!”

“Something is wrong with her,” I whisper to Vawn. “Either she’s a traitor, or she’s under duress from someone who is, and they’re forcing her to make these demands. I knew that party was a bad fucking idea. Go hide in your closet. I’m getting Severin in case we need to run.”

“I’d rather not go out a window again,” Vawn whispers back. “And what about the Lord and Lady? I won’t leave without knowing they’re safe.”

“We’ll figure it out. Hide.” I rush back into my room and throw open the glass-topped carpet case.

When I pull Severin out, he shakes himself and swivels toward the window. “It’s still dark outside. Are we making another midnight escape?”

“Possibly. I’m going to open the window a crack and let you slip out. See if you spot any wyverns or other carpets in the area. Let me know if anyone is attacking the castle.”

The second I throw back the curtains, a giant wyvern sweeps past the window. Huge arrows arch toward it, shot by the castle guards on the parapets.

Before I can draw the curtains shut again, the wyvern’s rider spots the glow of the carpet behind me. He hauls at the bridle of his beast, pulling it around and heading straight for us.

“Shit!” I dart to the nightstand and grab my weapons belt, struggling to buckle it. I’m only wearing bandages, underwear, and garters, but I don’t have time to get dressed. Earlier I spotted a cloak hanging in the closet, so I swirl it around myself in case we end up outside.

A scaly snout bursts through my bedroom window, shattering the glass, and the white curtains billow into the room. Two arrows jut from the wyvern’s skull, so it’s probably dying—but its head is still swiveling atop its long neck, and its jaws clash perilously close to my bare calf as I run past it.