Page 68 of Prince of Ruin

“Eat,” I say, noting how his knee is bouncing like it tends to do when he appears nervous.

His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and he picks up the fork and begins shoving eggs intohis mouth. I sink down in the chair opposite him, watching him warily. The way he eats hasn’t changed at all. Clavicle has always eaten every meal like it was his last, relishing every goddamn bite and cleaning every crumb off his plate. How he stays so skinny is beyond me. He cuts into his pancakes and takes a mouthful. A drop of syrup drips down his chin, and I imagine licking that drop off his chin. My cock twitches, growing harder than it already was, if that’s possible.Not the same Clavicle.

I don’t want to interrupt his dinner with another argument, so only when he’s finished eating his food and downed his juice and coffee, do I speak.

“Do you remember anything yet?” I ask, deadpan. As if I didn’t already know that he remembers everything.

His foot bouncing on the floor, he clasps his hands between his knees and quickly looks away—out the window—and it’s in that shift of his eyes that I have all the confirmation I need that he remembers. As if I needed confirmation.

“Um…I don’t…I mean.” He licks his lips nervously, then meets my gaze, as if scheming on how to tell me what’s on his mind in a way that’ll convince me that he’s innocent.

“I had a dream about…us.” His cheeks turn almost as pink as his hair and he looks at his empty plate. The way he bites his lips makes me want toshove him to his knees right now and drive my dick into his mouth.

“What happened in the dream?” I ask, shoving the image of his lips around my cock away.

He meets my gaze again, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “We’d…just boned.” He licks his lips nervously, and it’s so fucking adorable I have to remind myself of what he looked like when he tried to kill me twenty-three years ago. “Then I remember thinking about how my father wouldn’t approve of our relationship. How he’d kill you if he knew about us.” I drag my gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “And how I needed to kill him before it ever got to that point.”

His words hit me like a well-aimed dagger. There was a time when all Clavicle wanted was for us to be able to live out our love freely, without fear of his father killing me. There was a time when all he cared about wasus.

But then the throne—thepower—changed him.

“It makes sense that you would pretend to only remember the good times—and try to remind me of them as well. It’s a great move to weaken me.” And it’s working, so I think I’ve about heard enough. “Let me know when you’re ready to stop with the act,” I snap, and stand. I need to get the fuck out of here before I fall for him again. Before I remember only the good and try to replay our past relationship. “Because rightnow, there’s a massive volcano about to erupt and destroy the continent, and unless you quit this act and perform the duties of a sovereign, then we’re all doomed.”

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.” His voice is shaky—another small detail that makes me want to believe he truly is as innocent as Aden claims. But I look at his missing finger, and my jaw tightens.

“Stop acting,” I answer, then stride toward the door.

“You’re not going to fuck my mouth this time?”

I pause, my cock growing harder at the thought, but don’t look back at him. I should walk out. I should leave and not look back.

“Do you…wantme to fuck your mouth?” Because gods-dammit, I wouldn’t hesitate to make him do it if he wants it.

He’s silent for a moment. Just when I think his silence meansno, I reach for the door.

“Yes.”

My eyes close, my cock aching with need as I take a deep, measured breath. “Yes, what?”

“Please. Please let me suck your cock.”

Walk out. It’s a trick. Not the same Clavicle.

“Please, Tarsus. Come back.”

I heave out a weak sigh.Walk out.

“Please don’t leave me here.”

It’s a trick.

“Remind me what we used other have.”

Not the same Clavicle.

But I find myself spinning on my heel and striding across the room toward him.He wants to suck my cock? He can be my guest.

“On your knees,” I order, stopping inches from the chair where he sits.

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