Page 103 of Court of Secrets and Flames

“You’re the prince of Tirene. I’m pretty certain anything on the palace grounds qualifies as yours too.” I walk down the hall,putting an extra sway in my step. If he insists on staring, I may as well put on a show.

We continue our search in the equipment rooms.

Sterling rummages through bridles, then pauses behind a rack of alicorn saddles, with one arm up as he leans against the wall. Because he has his back to me, I can’t see what has him so interested. “Huh, that’s unusual.”

“What?” I wander in the room, ensuring that nothing strange is hiding between the racks as I walk past them.

He glances at me before going back to staring at the wall. “It’s difficult to explain. Can you come take a look?”

Whatever he’s inspecting seems to be about the same height as me. I have to duck under his arm in order to see it. But once I do, I encounter nothing unusual on the timeworn stone wall.

“What do you see?” For some reason, he doesn’t back up, and we’re pressed together pretty tight.

As soon as I glance up, his arm drops, pinning me against the wall.

His mouth is on mine before I realize what’s happening. “I’m willing to admit I lied.” His lips trail over mine as he speaks. Then his tongue darts out, tracing over my lower lip. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

Despite the warning bells going off in my head, I can’t help but smile at his ploy. “Sterling…the king. If he catches us…for real this time…”

“I’ll never let him throw you in a cell again.” He growls the words, the promise of murder on his face. “If he pulls a stunt like that again, I will fucking kill him.”

Alarm constricts my ribs. “He’s your brother…and the king of Tirene. The consequences would be harsh.”

“Fuck the consequences. I would destroy this kingdom for you.”

His vow sets me on fire, and his next kiss heats my core. Suddenly I’m wishing I’d worn a dress today. While they may not be suitable for some vigorous physical activities, they’re perfectly acceptable for this one. However, wearing a shirt has its own advantages. Which Sterling reminds me of as his fingers slide up the bare skin of my back.

“Sterling,” I gasp when I break away, my skin slick with sweat from our embrace, “what happened to your insistence that people shouldn’t be using the stalls for liaisons?’

He tracks kisses across my cheek to my ear, and I momentarily melt into him. “You could have died when you were poisoned. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that tomorrow isn’t promised. There are no guarantees in life. I may have to sneak around to have you, but Iwillhave you.”

Sliding my hand down the front of his body, past his belt, I watch his face tighten with need. “What if someone opens this door and sees?—”

As if my words were a taunt to the gods instead of the man in front of me, approaching footsteps reverberate through the room.

Ducking out from under Sterling’s arms, I scurry to the corner, darting behind the racks so I can straighten my hair. I stifle a giggle when he shoots me a glare and adjusts the bulge in his trousers.

One of the older dragontenders pushes open the door. His gray brows are furrowed and his mouth is open as if he’s about to start a lecture before he sees Sterling.

His mouth snaps closed for a moment, the action jiggling his heavy jowls. “Pardon, Your Highness, how may I serve you?”

Sterling’s jaw tightens. “We’re searching for something that could have frightened the dragons away. Have you noticed anything amiss? With the food supplies, maybe, or anything else?”

The dragon tender shakes his head. “I go through the storage area all the time and haven’t noticed anything. Well, all except for the eyril. I don’t check that container.”

I frown. “Eyril? Why would Tirene store eyril? I thought you didn’t need it for magic.”

“We don’t,” Sterling says. “For a while our kingdom used it as part of an underground trade with Aclaris, but last I heard, that stopped when relations between our kingdoms deteriorated.”

He thanks the dragon tender, who leads us to the back of the storehouse, stopping before a heavy wooden door. Using a key he extracts from his pocket, Sterling unlocks the door. He yanks the iron handle with a resigned sigh.

The storeroom greets us with empty shelves and a faint, plantlike scent.

Only a tiny, abandoned piece of dried eyril remains.

As I stare at the remnant, something niggles at the back of my mind. I peer into the empty room as though I’m missing a puzzle piece.

“Explain.” Sterling whirls on the other man, barely contained fury punctuating each syllable. “Who else has access to this room?”

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