Page 4 of Dare

The edge of my weapon aimed at the tip of his own knife. Our exhales collided like fists. With my breasts mashed against the solid plate of his chest, it would be easy to stab him through the jugular, to silence him the way this continent had tried to silence me.

I put my whole body into motion. Jolting forward, I pitched the dagger at his throat.

The prince saw it coming. Dodging my attack with a calm twist of his head, he lifted one powerful arm and blocked the weapon, the muscled plank of his shoulder inflating like a mountain.

Good. I’d seen that countermove coming too. With his forearm staying the dagger’s hilt, he’d been forced to release my waist. I swerved, spinning out of reach and thrusting my weapon again.

Once more, the prince reacted quickly. With a series of clicks, his knife’s blade retracted into the hilt. At the same instant, a larger one appeared from a different slot, flicking open as mine struck, stopping the momentum.

I spied a collection of grooves in the prince’s handle. It must contain more than one deadly option, allowing him to cherry pick between murder weapons.

We paused. The prince’s irises glittered like crystals—bleak and numb and hiding nothing.

Yet his pupils were another story, the wells dark and fathomless. I focused there, searching for a chink. The instant my stare made those orbs twitch with suspicion, I flung myself at him.

Expression tapering, the prince met me halfway. Whereas battle training must occupy chunks of his spare time, I’d earned my fair share of skills. Captives didn’t grow up in a prison supervised by baiting guards without learning how to defend themselves.

Our weapons clanged. I ducked and swung. He slipped out of reach, his movements akin to liquid metal, the steel toes of his boots flashing.

A twig cracked under my foot, pain shooting up my calf. As I stumbled, the prince seized the upper hand. Clamping his free palm around my nape, he wrenched me into his torso like a rag doll.

The impact knocked the wind from me. I wheezed as he fisted my hair, our mouths hovering inches from one another, my hot pants firing against his arctic breaths. The prince’s fur collar bristled against the ledge of his jaw, and his gaze bore into mine with rancor.

At that moment, I guessed what he must see. An olive-skinned woman with a body thinner than fish bones, a jungle of shoulder-length waves, and sand clotting her fingernails. In his eyes, he saw a prisoner with a mind as frayed as the roughspun rags she wore.

This monster thought he saw a fool.

“If I were you,” the villain prince cautioned, “I would not do that again.”

Being pampered must be nice, to have such pearly teeth, to have those canines filed on a daily basis. Except I had canines too. Even better, the fur sleeve had slid up his forearm like an invitation. Veering my head sideways, I fastened onto his arm and bit. Blood squirted, the tang of him drizzling across my tongue.

With a growl, the prince released me. I bolted to the left, jetted across several leagues, then yelped when his arm slung around my waist. He spun me with such force that the beech trees whirled, the forest cycling in my vision.

My back hit one of the trunks as the prince rammed me into its surface, while vines dangled around us like dead serpents. He dug his fingers into my palm until my lips parted on a scream, the sound audible only to me, and the dagger toppled from my fingers. Jammed between the column and his heaving chest, I squirmed, my thighs splitting around his narrow waist, my bare flesh chafing against his hips.

“Much better,” the prince rasped, the control in his voice slipping a notch. “Now then. Where are you headed in such a rush?” His eyes diced toward the four-way creek, then back to me. “Who told you about this crossing?”

Based on his caustic tone, the man had a hunch.

On instinct, my attention cut to Poet’s dagger, abandoned in the grass. Following my gaze, the prince’s chiseled profile examined the weapon’s ornate handle, from its fine curve to the embedded scarlet gems.

Recognition darkened his pupils. “Those fucking anarchists.”

Remorse boiled in my veins. He could retaliate against Poet and Briar for helping me. If something happened to them, I would never forgive myself.

No, I wouldn’t let this fiend hurt them. Not my friends!

Taking advantage of his distraction, I used the only means of defense left. My right knee catapulted like a slingshot. I aimed where it hurt, hammering his Royal cock and nailing his balls so hard I hoped they got stuck up his asshole.

On a furious hiss, the prince buckled and dropped his weapon. I swiveled while grabbing one of the vines and ripping it from the branch. Barreling toward the creek, I splashed into the waterway, hightailing to the intersection.

A shout popped from my mouth as the prince snared my waist yet again and flipped me toward him. One hand trapped my lower half, and the other shackled my jaw, angling my gaze to his. Like this, he backed me through the water, his boots cleaving through the surface.

“Learn this lesson, fool,” he said in a lethal timbre. “Winter does not take kindly to its possessions being tampered with.”

An invasive scent emanated from his clothes, something masculine and crisp. In the V of his shirt, a fang-shaped glass vial swung from a low chain around his neck, the keepsake’s surface cracked. I’d damaged that pendant by throwing it at the bars of my cage. That was how we met.

In the dungeon, I had guessed the talisman was special to him, if he kept it close to his frozen heart. I’d broken the trinket to hurt him, to destroy that precious item like he’d wanted to destroy my drawing. The one I’d sketched in a dirt pile of my cell, my only refuge from the nightmare of that place.

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