Page 44 of Dare

Elated, I rushed toward the bush, then paused. I’d never seen najavas flourish near the coast. And as the whirlpool had taught the prince, things were not always what they seemed here.

Yet my stomach grumbled, and my mouth watered. Despite the rations I’d found, they weren’t enough.

I knelt with caution, plucked one of the morsels, and pried open its womb. Nothing but familiar pulp and flesh stared back, both emitting a recognizable sugary fragrance. With a sigh, I popped the berry into my mouth. The fruit tickled my lips, the nectar riper than I remembered as I savored every bead of juice.

Eager to collect more, I picked a handful and blissfully imagined baiting the prince. Pretending he was there, I held a berry between my fingers, wiggled the fruit, and spoke to thin air. “If you want some, you’ll have to ask nicely—”

The words died on my tongue, which fattened and swelled. Fear licked a path across my chest. Within seconds, my throat shrank, air fighting to squeeze through.

The berries toppled to the ground. I wheezed through my nostrils, oxygen fighting to reach my lungs. Grabbing another berry, I ripped the thing open and checked its innards. There it was, a seed nesting inside the flesh, blending in with the pulp.

Camouflaged. Because najavas didn’t have seeds.

As the seconds ticked by, a dozen of them sprouted, materializing out of nowhere. Instantly, the prince’s warning from the day before chewed through my head. In Summer, the brighter the fruit, the deadlier the poison.

With a cry, I hurled the bedeviled berry against the nearest tree, where it exploded into a soggy mess. Thinking better of it, I snatched a second one, then staggered to my feet and ran. My body shredded through the rainforest, the canteen and dagger rapping against my hip. Racing toward the cove, I blew through the hedges.

The villain prince observed the spectacle with a mask of boredom. The rainfall must have spat at him through the canopy, studding his clothes with droplets. Like a careless shark, he lounged as I thrashed toward the camp, dropped onto the sail blanket, and struggled to write in the sand. Except my hands shook so badly, I failed to compose a single legible word.

To which, he merely tutted. “Convulsions. Swelling.”

Abandoning the sand, I attempted to respond. “I … I can’t …”

The Royal peered closer. “Asphyxiation. Must have been venom.”

“It was … fruit,” I croaked, opening my hand to show him the morsel I’d brought. “Berries.”

Understanding gripped his visage as he regarded the najava. “Ah, poison. Nature defends itself with deceptions, which is one of many ways fools and normal people differ. A vigilant person is equipped with logical defenses and instincts against hazards. Though, as a presumed sand drifter, you should have known what to avoid.” Sudden clarity honed his voice. “Or you were acting on impulse. You recognized the berry, therefore mistook it for edible and neglected to check the details. An exceptionally stupid fool, then.”

“Hypocrite!” My fangs came out. “You should … talk when … you nearly … drowned.”

With an elegantly dismissive shrug, the prince said, “You will die.”

I tore my dagger from the rope belt.

“You will die in pain.”

Launching at him, I angled the weapon against his throat. “I’ll take you … with me.”

“Is this your way of asking for assistance?”

Curse his bullshit. If I keeled over, this man would stay tethered until he turned into a skeleton. He knew as much, his nonchalance a facade meant to rankle me, because he also knew how this scenario was about to play out.

The dagger quaked in my fingers. While gasping for air, I fetishized about tracing a vein in his neck, teaching him an overdue lesson, marring him the way his cretins had marred me.

My fingers clenched the hilt. “Help.”

“I don’t specialize in Summer antidotes,” the prince replied.

Frantically, I thought back to Autumn, when he’d treated Briar’s poisoning. Although the princess hadn’t told me about that event, any news about Royals traveled fast, including to jail cells. “But you know things.”

The prince’s irises glinted. Based on that, he might be remembering the same incident. At length, he drew out, “I might know things.”

“Then … help … me!”

He raised a triumphant brow. “I cannot talk you through it.”

Shit. I dropped the berry, scrambled behind the bastard, and cut his bindings.

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