Page 77 of Heir to His Court

I opened my eyes, realizing we were on the bed. Raniel held me in his arms, my back against his chest. A chest that rose with slow, even breaths. He said nothing, made no move. He waited, his silence implacable.

“Even two weeks ago,” I whispered, “I would have chosen death. Just to spite you.”

His fingertips skimmed my hair. “Even two weeks ago, my halfling, you were still a child. Not fully aware of the breadth of your responsibilities.”

Not fully aware of the destruction on the horizon.

“I cannot bear your anguish, even now,” he said with a sigh, his lips ghosting against my temple. “I will offer you one further concession.” He lowered his hand, splayed his fingers against my stomach. “I will use none of my power to ensure you conceive.” His voice deepened, taking on a guttural edge. “I will keep you in this room and fuck you all week. But I will not use my mother's power. You will have a chance to escape justice, my halfling.”

“And if I don't conceive?”

“Then I will still consider justice served.”

They were offering me a chance. A sliver of a chance if I acquiesced to being rutted day and night. I had no illusions about the stamina of a High Fae male in heat. He pressed against me now, hard and insistent—the rest of him utterly still, utterly in control. When he unleashed, it would be because he allowed it.

“I accept.” It would buy me time, a silver of a chance.

“Come,” he said, rising.

A little surprised, I rolled over onto my side. He held out a hand. I took it, a little wary, but he simply pulled me to my feet.

“You ate little,” Raniel said. “You will eat first. And then we will bathe.”

“A. . .bath?”

“Did you think I was going to rut you like a wyvern?” Amusement in his eyes as he trailed a thumb across my cheekbone. “Not yet. You are tense, and unhappy. We will eat, and bathe, and relax. I don't intend for this to be a punishment.” A cruel smile bloomed on his lips. Renaud’s smile. “Unless punishment is what you desire. I should be in your debt if you gifted me your blood and screams.”

I tried to respond, I truly did. But words failed me. I half shook my head, half nodded.

His soft laughter filled the room. “You delight me, my halfling. If by the end of this week you can still look at me with the allure of a trembling summer flower, with such wide, innocent, suspicious eyes, then. . .”

“Then?”

He stepped backwards, his gaze on mine. “Then I will task myself to try harder.”

The Prince turned and left me with a spinning head, trying to keep up with his mercurial nature.

ChapterTwenty-Three

The bathroom, unexpectedly, was not white and black. It was gray like the inside of a mystical cave, veined in threads of gold and silver. The tub was sunken, more pool than anything else, and when I dipped a toe in, I found the water to be warm.

I stepped out of my nightgown and into the pool and settled onto a ledge, closing my eyes and leaning back as the warmth soothed muscles tired from prolonged tension.

A glass of wine would be perfect right now.

A courteous scuff of bare feet warned me, but I didn't open my eyes. “Color,” I said. “It’s a thing that exists.”

I tormented myself with the sound of cloth dropping softly onto stone, then the ripple of water as a body heavier than mine disturbed the pool.

He passed me, though I still didn't open my eyes, envisioning the ledge on the other side of the pool. Envisioning shoulders and chest and strong arms peaking above the water, his hair floating around him as he stared at me.

I opened my eyes, met Raniel's.

They were still gray.

“Why do you distance yourself from me?” I asked. Neutrally, because I wouldn't expose my hurt.

His eyes shaded back to blue. I endured the silence, my gaze tracing the sharp line of his cheekbones, the strong line of his elegant jaw, the sensual curve of his mouth. The delicate points of ears peeking through his hair.

---