Page 78 of Blood On His Lips

Yes, I’d known Darkan would eventually get his revenge for that. Hehadn’tbeen happy. Not about the nudity, no one cared about that. He hadn’t liked that I’d been an object of other male’s lust. But Juliette and I had enjoyed the dancing, and the extra cash that took some of the stress of supporting us off Faronne’s reserves.

A threat hung in the air, in the sharpness of his gaze. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and undressed. I ignored the gazes of his Court. They felt hollow, ephemeral. The only person here that mattered was Renaud.

“Darkan. Why are you doing this to me?”

His eyes flickered, his lip curled. “Weak. So weak. Why do you allow it? Why do you not fight?”

“I can’t fight you.” I didn’t recognize the sibilance of my own voice. He was testing me. What was the test? How did I pass? “I can’t fight you, I’m not strong enough.”

“You keep saying that. I keep telling you it isn’t true. How much will you endure before you relinquish fear?”

Ah. “You want to know my breaking point. Why? What do you think will happen once I push past it?”

He played the long game. So. This wasn’t about the other night, or about the brawl at the faire. I was beginning to remember more and more of Avellonne, though it would take time to unravel all the new old memories. We were circling back to his old purpose, to tease my power into waking. Except I was no longer a child, and therefore he could take the glove off his methodology.

Renaud's gaze burned up and down my body, his gaze brightening as he lingered on my breasts, the dip of my waist, the curve of my hips. The juncture between my thighs. There was nothing impersonal about his gaze; dark lust writhed behind his eyes. This scene wasn’tentirelyabout teaching me a lesson.

I felt Fae gazes boring into my back, judging me for my weakness, for my failure. Judging me as prey. The Court closed in, silent, predatory. My breath seemed loud to my ears, my pulse fluttering in my throat. I shifted, but I couldn’t keep them in my eyesight and Renaud too. I wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss them entirely.

“What are they doing?” I asked, my voice sharp.What are you up to?

“Come forward,” he said. “My halfling.”

His voice was a silken caress that scared me even as it stroked specific nerves in my body. I shivered, stepping towards him. My nipples hardened, and I didn’t bother telling myself it was from the cool air.

The Prince slipped a hand between the juncture of my thighs, trailing a finger up and down my slit, pausing to delicately pinch the nub of flesh. I turned my head away, clenching my thighs. His hand bit into my flesh and pressed my legs apart, just enough to give him better access.

“Look at me,” he said.

I hadn’t looked away once, especially not when he began toying with my clit, working my body with an effortless expertise that I resented. How many females in his long existence had he touched like this? As if it were nothing, as if their bodies were simple instruments for him to tune to his will. As if I was nothing. Had he touched another since he’d risen?

For a wild second, my nails lengthened into talons and I leaned forward, breath hitching with the desire to slash his lovely cheeks and pluck out his pretty eyes. How many others did he play these games with?

Only you,the voice murmured in my head.Only you, my halfling. I said I am yours as you are mine.

I still wanted to kill him, panting through the need. He was mine.

Renaud laughed wildly. “Look at me, Aerinne.”

I heard the warning in his voice, but I didn't care. The day he looked at another with those eyes, touched another with those hands, I would feed him his lover’s entrails then burn them together in his traitor’s bed, along with any who tried to defend them.

Sharp pain on my cheek. My head jerked with the slap, and I arched in shock, crying out as his fingers speared inside of me.

“Look at me.”

Death in his voice. This time, I obeyed, snapping my head around to stare at him, the taste of blood in my mouth. To stare deep into that emotionless gaze. Well, not emotionless. But I would no longer see lust as a simple, healthy thing. Not Renaud’s lust—or my own.

“You'll look at me while I take you, Aerinne. I'll drink in your rage as I drink in your pleasure. You thought you could repudiateme?” He laughed. “You thought you had even one defense against me? You were mine the day you wereborn.”

“I know I have no defense.” My smile was as lethal as his voice. In a quick movement, I buried my hands in his hair and tightened my fingers. “But neither do you have a defense against me. Prince.”

I knew, Iknewthis blade cut both ways. I knew he feared it.

I laughed.

Something vicious flashed across his face, and his fingers slid in and out of me harder. “That answer earned you more punishment, Aerinne.”

I cried out, shuddering, and he dragged me back onto his lap, draping my limbs to suit his whim. Some punishment. Renaud’s cruel words, Darkan’s calculating mind, Raniel’s forbidden desire, now beginning to unleash. The three of them breaking my body to his will. Proving that I was never myself. Never Aerinne Kuthliele, called Capulette. I was always Aerinne, of Raniel, the Prince.

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