Page 69 of Dark Reign

“I carried you,” he revealed.

My head lowered and the subtle spike in my heart beats that I felt a second ago turned into a full-on leap with his words.

“You ran off,” he began, the harshness in his tone making me anxious. “Why?”

“Because I … I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

He scoffed before turning away. “This could have all been avoided,” he mumbled so softly that I barely heard him.

I swallowed hard. “I needed to be alone for a while, and your security detail would have never allowed it,” I sighed, explaining further. “My privacy hasn’t exactly been at the top of anyone’s list of priorities here.”

Unable to meet his gaze, my eyes remained trained on the blanket covering my legs.

To my surprise, he didn’t force me to elaborate.

“There’s something we need to discuss,” he added, changing the subject.

Forced to swallow hard again, my thoughts went back to the events that led up to this—how I attempted to run, attempted to hide from him before being overcome by the seizure. The deeper answer to his question, the part I kept to myself, was that I knew how his kind responded to such things.

A ‘flaw’ like mine equaled death.

My thoughts raced, trying to decide whether I’d be better off coming up with a lie to get myself out of this, or taking my chances with the truth, but …

“I found you,” he informed, cutting into my thoughts before I could make a decision.

My gaze drifted to him and things were starting to come into focus. Colorful bursts of light were now objects.

And still, amidst the brief moment of sensory overload, his response rang loud inside my head.

… He said he found me.

Meaning, the secret I so desperately tried to keep suddenly wasn’t so secret.

“So, what now?” I asked, feeling my chest heave with each labored breath I took. While fear flooded my bones, I held my composure, running a shaky hand through my hair. “The condition is manageable,” I blurted out, “but I suppose you don’t care about that. An imperfection is an imperfection, right?”

The familiar feeling of resentment filled me, and I welcomed it. I could only imagine how he was already justifying having me put to death. I knew I should have laid my pride aside, and resorted to explaining or even groveling, but I just couldn’t. The part of me that was so much like my father wouldn’t allow it.

My sense of fight or flight seemed to be broken, even more so than usual. I felt reckless. Like I physicallycouldn’tback down from defending myself, even though I was keenly aware of my own mortality at the moment. I wanted nothing more than to find a way back to my team, and while I knew that could only be done if I was alive, I still hadn’t talked myself into bowing before him.

Yes, I, Corina Prescott, thought I had the prince all figured out now. However, with two little words, he made me question that completely.

“I knew.”

My thoughts evaporated into thin air—every defense I readied, every insult I conjured to spew at him if he, inevitably, dragged me away from here kicking and screaming.

But … with what itseemedhe just admitted, I was at a loss.

Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe I’d somehow missed the context, so I had to ask.

“Knew … what?”

His steely gaze settled on me, and a breath hitched in my throat now that I owned his attention once more. I felt a sense of heaviness that came over him as he prepared to answer.

“I knew about your condition,” he confessed. “That you’re epileptic.”

I blinked several times, but didn’t speak.

“After Dr. Driskel conducted his examination, we had a briefing in the study. That’s when he brought it to my attention.”

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