Page 211 of Rage

“Bite your tongue!” I snapped.

“Oh! You care for him as more than a friend.” He paced away before turning back. “The prince has not asked after you.”

My thoughts raced over one another. He had to be lying. Of course Dorian would ask for me. He needed me. He loved me. Maybe not quite as I loved him, but it was still love.

“I think he controls you, instead of caring for you.” Orion leaned back, flexing his knuckles before shoving his hands into his pockets. He grinned, flashing sharp canines. “I am a patient man. I will wait.”

He scooped up the lantern and left, leaving me in darkness.

Though I remained tied to the pole, food eventually came by way of a different crew member, and I was handfed. A different man brought each meal, each drink of wine. As they offered me a bite of rice and came close to grazing a finger against my lips, I dropped the walls around my magic, but each was too careful not to touch me.

I held no empathy for pirates—or privateers—whatever they wanted to call themselves. Dorian’s father had labeled them many things. They were called ‘evil’ but continued to put off killing me. They were called ‘callous’ but offered me three square meals and a steady supply of wine each day.

Even our royal navy did not treat prisoners so well.

I don’t know how many days passed before he finally returned.

“He’s asked for you,” Orion said as he rounded the corner. “‘Hari!’ he cried out, and you weren’t there. But don’t worry, my captain consoled him with a story. He is quite easily distracted.”

My head snapped toward him, and I strained against my bonds. “Take me to him,” I begged.

“You have a choice to make first.”

“Never,” I spat.

“It’s not hard. Join me or die. The crew moves freely. Prove that I can trust you, and you’ll see him once again.”

I stilled my struggle and glared at Orion through my lashes.

“What are you holding out for?” Orion asked.

Looking into his eyes made me dizzy, so I watched the lamplight flicker.

“Dorian, always,” I admitted, then froze.

Why would I say such a thing?

Orion stepped in close, letting the glass light he held fall to his side. He crooked a finger under my chin and pulled my face to look into his eyes. A heartbeat passed. I shoved the rage I felt deep down inside and summoned every ounce of empathy I could, shoving it out through my skin.

As I met his bright gaze, my magic faltered.

Something fell away inside me, and Orion's eyes widened. The emotion I willed him to feel fell back, rebounding, and I was filled with equal measures of fury and lust.

Orion yanked his hand back, his jaw slack, and stumbled back.

Angst, trust, and then need shoved their way to the forefront of my mind, and I was left gasping for air. A wave of rage overpowered everything I felt—my emotions weren’t my own. I threw my head back against the wood I was tied to and gasped against the onslaught. It took everything I had to slam the walls back around my magic.

Orion’s hand traveled over his face, through the thick curls falling over his forehead, he tore at the button at his collar and finally cleared his throat.

I swallowed hard, tracked the tremble in his fingers to where he pinched the bridge of his nose, and I finally understood.

“Mantrik?” I gasped. “You have magic?”

He nodded, steadying himself. “Obviously, Hari.”

“But your eyes are not of Mantrik. You look like a human,” I pressed, leaning forward.

In the years since I had discovered my magic, I had never had someone overwhelm it so fiercely, had never felt such pushback. It was… intoxicating.

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