Page 6 of Heart of the Raven Prince

If he makes it to that boat, then he can sail to one of the neighboring islands and seek refuge with the nobles there. He can warn them of the coming storm, much like those refugees tried to warn us. Then, just maybe, he’ll make his way across the sea, far away from where the queen’s talons reach.

“I grow tired of waiting for you to answer such simple questions,” he says, placing the tip of the blade under my chin and tilting my head forcefully up. Gods and demons, I hadn’t even heard him move.

“Yes,” I hiss between clenched teeth.

“Yes what?” He slowly leans down. His looming presence takes up all the air as he comes within a hair’s breadth of my face, the dagger keeping me from lowering my chin. The dominance that rolls off him is stifling, and I have to swallow hard to work any sort of moisture into my mouth. I am trapped entirely in those terrifying eyes.

“Yes, I served the prince and the princess.” I barely keep my voice even, the flames of my rage trying to burn through.

“Then, you’ll have no trouble telling me where the fuck they are," he snarls, his teeth inches from my face. I swallow against the lump in my throat. Candlelight winks off his sharpened fangs, reminding me every bit of the bloodier side of the fae. His eyes flick to the strip of blood slowly drying on my chin, and I see his nostrils flare again before he turns that heated gaze back on me. It’s a great effort to suppress the shiver that threatens to trail down my spine.

“They’re dead. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.” My words are steadier now, stronger. I do not back down before him. He might think I’m a servant, but I’m going to talk to him like the queen I am.

“The prince and princess were not found amongst the bodies or with the prisoners. Since you humans cannot disappear into thin air, that means they remain on this island. Don’t insult my intelligence by trying to tell me they’re not being hidden as we speak. Spare us both the trouble of me finding more creative places for this knife to go and tell me where.”

Images of those twin charred corpses rise to my mind. Falen and I may live, but we might as well have died the moment our parents’ throats were slit. We can never again claim our names, or our old lives. My voice is lifeless as I repeat, “They are dead.”

“Lies,” he seethes. He moves the dagger from my chin and presses it sharply into my shoulder. A reminder that I am not in charge here. I'm sure he expects me to hiss in pain, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“Search the charred corpses your army littered throughout the estate and you’ll find your answer.”

“I see you've decided against saving yourself pain,” he growls, pressing closer. In response, I lean in as well, keeping my face stoic even as the blade pierces my skin.

“It looks like you're right.”

There is a flash of something in his gaze, something that looks vaguely like intrigue. But then he blinks rapidly and the effect is gone. Pain radiates from the cut, and he keeps flicking his eyes to the blooming red splotch on my tunic. We stay like that for several silent, tense moments. I wonder if he’s drinking in my mounting fear. No heat pours from his body, but the dark scent of him invades my senses. Like cloves, and musk, a shadowy scent that clings to me. “Last chance to tell me the truth, little girl.”

“Go ahead and bleed me dry, Prince. We both know I'm not going to help you.” It isn’t until he sucks in a sharp breath that I’m truly aware of what I said.

You know better than that, Fawn. You control your emotions; they do not control you.

My father’s words ring loud in my mind—a nagging reminder of failure. Years of training, and I’m throwing every hard-learned lesson out the very moment it counts. I couldn’t stop a single death this evening, apparently not even my own. But at least Falen has a chance. We stare at each other, neither moving as my damning words hang in the air around us. The wail of the coastal winds outside the tent is the only sound that penetrates the deafening silence. That and the relentless pounding of my heart.

“You insolent little…" Fury radiates from his words, but there is a hint of something else there too. Something dangerously close to curiosity. I wait for it, for the dagger to be shoved deep into my chest. I briefly wonder what it’s going to feel like to be stabbed in the heart. He moves, and I tense for the final blow, but instead…nothing. He stands up straight, towering over me as he pulls the blade swiftly from my shoulder. I'm unable to stop the sharp gasp of pain that escapes, instantly mad at myself for relenting even a little. He stares down at me with the oddest expression, studying me intently.

“Are you brave or simply stupid, Oisín?" Before I have even a second to process his whispered question, he bellows, “Doran!”

I can tell by the icy blast of night air and the deathly swell of his power that the general has returned. Without taking his eyes off me, the prince says, “I have the information I need from this one. Alert those that are returning with us. We leave at dawn.”

Turning swiftly, he sheathes the blade at his thigh. I let out a shaky breath, watching as he walks to his desk and leans over it. He is done with me, it would appear, and somehow, I made it out alive. Pain radiates from my shoulder as I cover the wound with my hand. Blood seeps between my fingers, a sticky reminder that I got off easy.

“You heard the prince, let’s go,” the general says, grabbing my arm and yanking me up. I’m only too happy to be out of here, so I willingly go along as the general drags me after him. My teeth are already chattering as we approach the tent flap, but I will gladly freeze if it means being out of the prince’s presence. I’m ready to be back with my people.

“Oh, General,” the prince calls over his shoulder, a wicked hint of something deadly edging his voice as he turns and spears my wide gaze in his. “Did I say to take her away?”

No…

The general stops, holding me firm even as I try to continue out of the tent. Out of the prince’s presence. Out of this entire gods-damned nightmare. There is a ringing in my ears, and I think perhaps I’ve stopped breathing. Caden, the prince of the hell that has become my waking life, turns and locks eyes with me.

“This one stays with me.”

It’s like a bolt of lightning struck the center of the room at his words, filling the suddenly too-tight quarters with the prickling feel of magic. Those five words root me in place. The fight leaves my body, replaced instead with an all-consuming fear. His magic threads through his command, running down my skin and reminding me just who stands before me. Like I could possibly forget.

The general looks down at my wide eyes. A wolfish grin stretches across his face and he shrugs, releasing my arm and shoving me away from the tent opening. I stumble, turning swiftly and staring in horror as he moves to leave me alone again with the prince. The bastard winks at the look of abject horror in my gaze before he begins to shut the tent flap behind him. My voice may be quiet, but it is no less resolute when I simply whisper, “No.”

The general freezes. The prince freezes. I freeze.

What had I just said? Did I really just blatantly refuse a clear command from the prince? Caden turns. His movements are achingly slow, his eyes snaring on mine. He’s just as stunned as I appear. I wonder if anyone has refused him before.