Page 53 of Heart of the Raven Prince

“Well, I suppose the joke’s on me,” she sighs, wiggling closer, her naked breasts pressing against me. My cock begins to twitch as her legs entwine with mine. But the next words she says has all heat quickly leaving my body. “Because one day they’ll get you back. One day how they feel about me won’t matter, because I’m going to die.”

“No,” I say sharply, grabbing her hand and bringing it to my lips, as I curl her in closer. Like if I hold her tight enough, I’ll be able to keep her out of death’s clutches. “I won’t allow it.”

“Even you don’t get everything you want,” she says, pulling her chin from my grip. In a blur I have flipped us, pinning her underneath me as I settle over her.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Sorcia,” I whisper, cupping the side of her face. “I’m a great spoiled brat of a prince.” She laughs at me, the bright sound cutting through some of the heavy tension. “As such, I won’t rest until I have the one thing I want the most in this world.”

“And what is that Caden?” she asks, her legs wrapping around my hips as she presses against me. A moan escapes my chest, and I rub my hard cock against the slickness I find waiting for me.

“Eternity with you, Sorcia,” I say. I devour her gasp as I press my lips to hers. She grips me hard, guiding me to her entrance, and I don’t wait a moment as I shove inside of her. I thrust in and out rapidly, my tongue tangling with hers. My body is lost to the pure pleasure of her skin as she meets my greedy thrusts with eager ones of her own, but my mind is focused only on the plan. The one that has been blooming in my mind from the moment I kicked my parents out of my apartment.

I’m done letting my father hoard the power of Niamh. I’m going to invoke a goddess. And I’m going to do it tonight.

The candles are burning low, wax pooling in ever-growing puddles around them. They cast dark orange light over Caden, giving his wings the appearance of being edged in fire. Like he’s burning alive. Pieces of his pitch-black locks fall into his face, obscuring his obsidian eyes as he stares pensively at me, tilting his head to the side.

Gods and fucking demons, it's not fair that someone so evil gets to look like pure temptation.

The dinner jacket he’s wearing fits him like a glove, accentuating every line of his muscles. He’s already loosened the tie around his collar and popped the first few buttons on his shirt. I spy the smallest hint of inky black tendrils that crawl up his chest, only getting glimpses of it when he moves just so. He’s looking at the glass in his hand, but I suspect he is seeing something else. I wait for him to continue with the story, but he doesn’t. He just glances up and watches me. His gaze is devouring, leaving no part of me untouched. Heat crawls up my neck under his scrutiny, my skin tingling where his eyes land.

“You said the queen uses you, that you have no choice in the violence you inflict,” I say, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms as I narrow my eyes. “So far all I have heard is a tale that involves nothing but your choices. If you want to see people who really have no say in what happens to them, look at the humans you enslaved.”

“The tale isn’t over yet, Oisín.”

He sounds so weary, but if he's looking for empathy, I'm the last person he should turn to.

“Then get. The fuck. On with it,” I snarl, my patience thinning into nonexistence. I suppress a grin at the flash of annoyance that shoots across his face.

Fuck, I shouldn’t like riling him up this much.

I blame it on the wine, and maybe the fact that I’m still not positive this isn’t the afterlife, but for some reason I am not afraid of Caden. Not like I should be. I can feel the churning power that lives beneath his skin. It coats me like hot, sticky blood every time I'm near him. It’s daunting, yes, stunning even, but it does not terrify me as it should. He is nothing like the queen.

But that doesn't mean I don't fucking hate him.

“I could use some air,” Caden says, suddenly standing. He tugs his dinner jacket off and drapes it over the back of his chair. Walking slowly toward the door, he busies himself unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. When I make no move to follow, he pauses in the doorway. “Care to keep me company?”

“Not particularly.”

“I suppose I walked into that one,” he snorts, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leans against the doorframe and watches me, his wings tucked in behind him. He does that a lot, studies me. Like I am some great enigma he can't comprehend. “Let me rephrase, I will tell you the rest of the story if you accompany me.”

“Does everything have to be bought and sold with you? Can you never just give something away for free?” I scoff, remaining stubbornly seated.

“The last time I gave away something for free, it cost me everything.” His voice is so hollow when he says it, so empty. Like he’s had to separate his feelings entirely from the situation or it will eat him alive.

Stop trying to humanize him.

“Fine,” I huff, pushing back from the table and standing.

He makes no effort to hide that he's staring. My heart races as he openly studies my body. I don’t know why he’s looking at me like that. Most likely he’s trying to intimidate me. Instead of cowering or moving to cover myself, I raise my chin and do not back down from his scrutiny. I throw my shoulders back and stand tall. He may want to devour me, but I'm going to show him that I bite back. Finally, he raises his eyes to mine and says, “You’re going to get cold.”

“I’ll be fine,” I snap.

“Don’t be stubborn, I can see you shivering.”

“I am not shiver—hey!” I shout when in a blur he is standing before me, holding his discarded dinner jacket. Swooping the garment over my shoulders, he drapes it over me, tugging it firmly around me. I furiously tear the jacket off my shoulders, about to snarl something cutting at him when I pause. I hold it out before me and study the back before flicking a questioning look to him. “Your wings…how do you wear this with your wings?”

“Magic, Fawn,” he deadpans.

“You waste magic on clothing alterations?” I scoff, rolling my eyes.