Page 73 of The Princess's Chosen

Aric huffed and started to pass me. "She's angry and she's armed. Tread gently."

I swallowed hard and nodded, but he was already gone. She had to know Emory and I had some acquaintance, he'd made that plain enough in his taunts. I grimaced at the thought of what that ornamental and monstrous weapon she'd fashioned might feel like at my throat. But if I wasn't going to run out of the palace and seek safety, then my next smartest move would be to make sure the princess wasn't waiting on me and growing impatient.

I moved through the staff corridors up through the back of the palace toward my rooms. It was the fastest route and also the one least likely to leave me running into any of the Chosen.

They could be there waiting with her. They wouldn't want to leave you alone with her again.

I'd barely slept since I'd taken that selfish, impulsive leap to let Bryony conquer me. Partly because I couldn't get every agonizing, exquisite second of the fucking out of my head. And partly because if she wasn't going to claim me as Chosen, the next logical assumption was that she'd either cut my balls off, toss me out of the palace, or both.

She'd kept her word in avoiding me, ignoring what happened, but aside from the tension in everyone's stare, there'd been no real change. I hated the stalemate.

"Daniel."

I stalled as the pale figure stepped out of a doorway, Sam looking everywhere in the hallway but at me.

"Get back to sleep, Sam," I said, frowning, my body urging me to go to Bryony as fast as I could, even if it meant she slit my throat when I got there.

"Are the horses all right?"

"Most of them. Men are seeing to them now."

"And the princess?"

I chewed on my own tongue, trying to check my impatience. "She's waiting to speak to me now."

"It wasn't me."

I blinked, head cocking, frowning as Sam started to retreat into his room. "What wasn't you?"

"The fire," he said softly.

My hands clenched to fists at my side, suspicion warring with the obvious answer. "We know that, Sam."

He sighed and then the door shut, my eyes glaring at it for a beat before the urge to see the princess outweighed my curiosity in the strange man.

I stopped in the doorway of my office. Even prepared for her to be here, waiting on me, she seemed like a vision at first. I'd taken the first chance to clean up and dry off, but Bryony stood in that crimson red gown, fabric now shredded up the leg and over one shoulder. She was dry as far as I could tell, but her hair was tangled and there was still blood staining one hand.

She spun, and I stepped back briefly at the blazing stare that met mine. This was a new version of the petite and playful princess I'd grown accustomed to. Oh, she could stand like a queen and stare down her nose at us all, taunt the council with her authority. But the woman in front of me was ferocious, pale, and stealing all the light from the room to dress her skin. If she'd snarled and growled, I would've bared my throat like prey.

I took three steps forward, aware that a new beast had claimed this territory and I was now an interloper.

"I didn't know he was coming here," I said.

"What did they tell you?"

I wanted to lie prostrate on the floor at her feet. Bryony wasn't a woman at all, she was some kind of creature, wilder and more dangerous than any of the two-natured. More potent. If she felt any Hunger in the moment, I suspected it was for blood rather than sex.

"To take the steward position, to let you claim me."

"Let me?" she asked, brow arching. Her words were long and articulated with sharp edges, each syllable a warning.

"They knew you exhibited the Hunger. I thought they wanted me to listen in, to share what I saw, but they were only ever interested if I was fucking you yet."

"And when you did?"

I shook my head, holding that eerily vibrant green stare. "I didn't tell them."

That startled her, just a little, her eyes blinking briefly. "Why?"

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