Page 2 of Hateful Prince

“Sure.”

“You’re telling me to sell my soul to a demon.”

My patience was officially waning. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m just saying you have options. Listen, I really have to go. Good luck with your situation. And if you do decide to go through with it and they give you any trouble, tell them Cain sent you.”

Later, I would wonder why I had given him my name. Names held weight. They were a currency in their own right when used in the correct circles. But I had more important things to worry about now. Like why my wife was being kept in the psychiatric ward.

What the fuck happened tonight?

She didn’t need to be here. And she certainly shouldn’t be pumped full of antipsychotic drugs. As soon as I found her, we’d leave this place and return to the underworld, where I could properly care for her. Give her exactly what she needed. She was my goddess, and the only thing making her mad was the separation from her true mate. Anything they were treating her with was surely doing more harm than good. She wasn’t a human.

Storming through the corridor, I took the elevator up to the floor the helpful woman at the counter indicated and then paused. It was quieter up here. There was no waiting room. No patients moving about. Just a single woman behind a desk, her attention locked on the computer in front of her.

“Excuse me,” I called, hoping she could tell me what room my wife was in.

“You’re not supposed to be up here without clearance,” she grumbled. “Visiting hours are posted right there.” She pointed to a sign on the wall.

“I’m Dr. Alexander. Here to see my patient Dahlia Moore.”

She narrowed her eyes and checked something on the computer screen. “I don’t see your name in the log.”

Calling on my shadows, I created the illusion of identification for her to check. “I assure you, I am supposed to be here. I’m part of her regular care team. Ms. Moore needs constant supervision.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Alexander. You’re not the doctor on record. That’s Dr. Temperance. You’ll have to take it up with him. I can’t let you see her without his permission.”

I swallowed a growl. “Then get him up here.”

“No. I don’t know how things are done where you work, Dr. Alexander, but here we follow protocol.” She was not intimidated by my display of temper. I might be impressed with her backbone if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. My Persephone was just beyond those locked doors. Within reach. But this woman stood between us.

I had half a mind to burn this place to the fucking ground and see what the woman had to say about protocol then, but until I knew for certain where my wife was, I couldn’t ensure her safety.

My fingers sparked with the threat of my fire, but I snuffed it out.

“Call him,” I snarled, more insistent than before.

She must’ve seen something in my eyes this time, because she jumped backward and grabbed the phone.

“Dr. Temperance to psych reception. Dr. Temperance to psych reception.”

She held my gaze with a haughty glare I itched to remove. No one dared look at or speak to me the way she did. Pride demanded I put her in her place, but instinct warned me to tread carefully. These humans had the one thing I craved above all else. I would play by their rules. For now.

Instead of a lab coat-wearing doctor, two beefy security guards came through the doors, gazes trained on me, one with cuffs already in his hands. The cunning woman must’ve hit a panic button while I’d been busy plotting arson.

“If you think those buffoons will protect you,” I started, icy menace coating every word.

To her credit, the only sign I’d gotten to her was the way her throat worked. Otherwise, she didn’t even flinch. Ballsy wench—though I guessed, given where she was employed, she’d probably seen her fair share of violence.

But the damage was done. I’d threatened her in front of those brutes. They rushed me, one wrapping his arms around me from behind, the other shackling my wrists. It was a real shame I was going to have to kill them. They were only doing their jobs. Well, I might add. Not that it was about to do them a bit of good.

They might be trained to handle unpredictable mortals, but I was far from mortal.

Nothing in any training manual they’d ever studied would prepare these men for me.

Drawing the heat of my flames into my hands, I let it build until my skin practically glowed from the power. Then, with a single lift of my brow, I placed my palm on the shackle of my other wrist, the heat I’d gathered melting the metal and rendering the cuffs useless.

“Wh-what?” one of the guards stupidly asked.

“Whoopsie daisy. Looks like these are broken.” I reached out with both hands and pressed them to each guard’s chest before sending my shadow fire into them and burning their souls to dust.

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