Page 50 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

“Then what was it?” he bites out. “What else could it possibly be?”

“Maybe I just like you, you sodding pile of dragon shite,” I bellow at him. I grab my skirts and lift my head, marching across the semen-splattered stone floor as if I’m a queen. “I’ll be upstairs. Don’t come after me.”

And I head up in the darkness. I’m so irritated and hurt that I’ve forgotten to grab one of the lamps, but no power in all the heavens is going to make me go back into that room and face him. My jaw set, my dignity arming me like a cloak, I head up to the second floor and to my old room.

My bed is where I left it, and there’s a gentle dripping into the pan that tells me it’s raining outside. I lie down on the naked bedtick (since all the blankets are downstairs) and stare up into the darkness. Tears threaten again, because I feel betrayed that something I thought was so wonderful has turned out sobadly. How could he think that I’m touching him just to have something to useagainsthim? Does he think I’m that cheap with my favors?

True, I have said in the past that Fellians are horrible and the enemy, but I thought he realized just how attracted I am to him. I can barely keep my hands off him whenever we’re together. I watch him do his exercises like some sort of pervert. I cuddle up against him and press my body to his in bed the moment there’s a hint of cold weather.

And yet he would think the worst of me.

It hurts more than it should, and I’m not used to letting people wound me like this. If we were back at court and someone thought I was using him after I’d made him come…I’d probably have laughed in his face and thought nothing of it. I’m untouchable back at court. A Vestalin princess with the world in her fist.

I don’t like this tower version of who I am. She’s far too vulnerable. Tears threaten again and I jab my nails into my palms until the pain makes the tears vanish.

I’ll cry later. Tomorrow. Next week. When I get out of this fucking tower. Just not now.

Chapter

Thirty-One

Istay upstairs and glare in silence at the ceiling for what must be hours. I don’t feel like coming down from my room, because then I’ll have to face Nemeth, and I really don’t want to. He made me feel ashamed and hurt and it pisses me off. I’m considering just staying up here for a few weeks—maybe longer—until things settle between us. There’s not as much of a need for firewood now with the weather warmer, and if I miss his company, it’s my own fault for trying to entice a stupid, stubborn Fellian into liking me back.

I hear Nemeth’s approach in the dark, silent halls of the tower before I hear the knock on my door. “Come out, Candra.”

“Piss off.” Am I being sulky and childish? Yes. Do I care? No.

“It’s time for your potion.”

I sit up in the darkness. “I’ll do it myself.”

“No, you won’t.” That stubborn note enters his voice. “You hurt yourself when you do. Come downstairs and I’ll administer it for you.”

“Quit being a bully,” I yell back. “I can do it myself.”

“Not without your tools, and they’re currently in my room.”

Oh, is it going to be like that? Indignant, I get to my feet and feel my way across the room, finding the door. I fling it open, andsure enough, there are the brightly gleaming, narrowed eyes of my Fellian nemesis.

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll guide you.”

“I don’t want guiding. I want to be left alone.”

“I’m not going to do that,” he growls.

Insufferable Fellian. I jerk away from his grip and head for the stairs, my hand out. I’ve made this journey hundreds of times in the dark, have I not? I know the way.

From behind me comes a feral snarl. “Stubborn little princess.” In the next moment, I’m grabbed and tossed over his shoulder, the wing moving backward to accommodate me. He smacks my butt as if I’m a child and hauls me down the stairs towards his quarters.

I’m furious.

I’m also turned on. How fucking dare he spank me. How fucking dare he act like he owns me. Like he can take care of me better than I can myself. I grit my teeth, hating that my body is responding to his, especially after he’s made it quite clear that he thinks I’ll just diddle any man put in front of me like a shameless tart.

And even if I did, so what? He enjoyed it. He’s more angry about that than anything, I suspect. He let himself be jerked off by a human and he liked it, and now he’s mad at me about it. My anger fires up and by the time he sets me down in the pleasant, lit warmth of his supply-crowded quarters, I’m past all reason once more. I glare at him, indignant, and then race for the table where my medical supplies are kept, intending to snatch the bag and race upstairs with it.

I don’t want to depend on him. I don’tneedto depend on him.

He growls, grabbing my wrist before I can reach the table. “So it’s going to be like that, princess?” Nemeth hauls me overto the bed, and I struggle to break free from his grip. “You’re so gods-damned stubborn.”

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