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He stiffens instantly. So do I.
My heart doesn’t thump, it stills entirely.
I drop my hand to my side.
Against his mouth, I whimper, “I’m sorry.”
This could be my end. I’ve slapped a dark fae prince. I fucking hit him on his face.
Home is a faraway dream now.
Death is my future.
A scream rips through me as the prince, with his hand in my hair, swings me away from the wall and pistons me across the chamber. I land, hard, on the grassy rug by the foot of the bed. My head knocks off the rug, the marble beneath it hard enough to dizzy me.
With a grunt, I roll onto my side. My hazy gaze finds the prince marching towards me, his fingers drawing out a blade from his belt.
Ice spears through my heart at the sight.
He slips the knife from his belt and flexes his fist around it.
I scramble back, my feet skidding over the rug. My wide eyes follow the knife for a beat before I look up at the prince’s murderous face.
He’s going to kill me. I can see it in the storms of his eyes, the snarl of his mouth, the purposeful steps he’s taking towards me.
“Please,” I whisper, skidding back along the floor. “Please, please, pleeeeaseee!” The scream tears through the chamber.
My back hits the wall and there’s nowhere to go. My legs are trembling, I can’t stand up—I’m frozen by the ice-cold terror pumping through me.
A flash of silver winks through the air.
I suck in a sharp breath as the dagger whirls towards me—and sinks right into the marble floor in the small space between my thighs.
Numb, I stare down at the ruby-encrusted hilt winking up at me. The blade is sunken into the floor halfway, and much too close to my core.
A breath shivers from me and, slowly, I turn my teary eyes up at the prince. “Daein,” I whisper, my hands rolling into fists at my sides.
His fury is unquenched. He takes two deliberate steps towards me. “You dared strike a dokkalf prince,” he says, his voice suddenly ice, like his eyes. His nails dig so hard into his palms that he draws beads of black blood.
“You were scaring me,” I whine, my face twisting with a fresh wave of tears. “And hurting me.”
Another determined step closer to me. His eyes darken to stormy clouds.
“Cut yourself.” His eyes flicker down to the dagger between my legs.
My mouth twists into a warped line. Tears wet my cheeks as I swallow, hard.
The prince’s shout splits the room, “Now!”
A sob jolts through me as I reach out my trembling hand for the dagger. I suck in sharp breaths that cut through me, my bottom lip quivering.
The cries clench my eyes shut as I wrap my hand around the dagger’s blade. My palms are clammy as I tighten my hold on the blade, the sharp edges quick to cut into my flesh like a warm knife through butter.
I sob harder.
Drawing my knees up to my chest, my sobs turn to cries of pain as I firm my grip. Blood spills to the marble floor.
“Next time,” the prince says, rage shaking through his voice like an undercurrent, “it will be your throat.”
I turn my watery gaze up at him and, as I nod, suck in a shivering breath.
“Leave,” he growls, and that’s all I need to whip my hand back from the dagger and roll out of its place.
I scramble to my bare feet, slipping on the blood spilled over the marble, and clamber to the open door. I barrel through it, not looking back.
