Page 103 of The Prince's Captive

Gavril grabbed Nikias by the shoulder of his chiton before he was even halfway across the courtyard to them and started pushing him backward, hissing furiously in their tongue. Nikias was immediately stumbling and swaying on his feet as Gavril easily manhandled him.

The two of them were talking over each other so heatedly she couldn’t catch any of it as Gavril kept pushing his brother backward to where the guards were hovering. The guards had their eyes on her and were glaring at her bare wrists.

She watched as Gavril practically shoved his brother into the shadows of the peristyle and they stopped to have whatever argument they were having. Clearly about her.

Whether it was fake or not.

She still shifted her weight from foot to foot even though she couldn’t go anywhere.

As their argument went on, she could hear their voices—not enough to make anything out—as they continued to rise. Gavril was shaking his head as Nikias repeatedly hit Gavril’s chest with the back of his hand, but his movements had no force behind them.

Gavril shoved Nikias’ hand away from him, pushing back on him. Marcella tried to focus just on Gavril’s voice, but his accent was so much thicker when he was upset, so she didn’t have a hope with that as well as how far away he was.

Nikias started pointing directly at her as he advanced on Gavril once again. Gavril looked over his shoulder at her. She stayed still, looking right back at him.

Nikias was still saying something, but as Gavril looked at her, he was so focused, she had no idea if he was even hearing what his brother was saying.

He reached for his right wrist for a moment, sinking his nails in before switching to his left wrist. Only he treated his left wrist far more gently as he ran his fingers over the lines on his arm. They didn’t glow when he touched them.

Gavril turned around and shoved his brother back, spitting something at him as he did so. Nikias sneered but lifted his hands and his fingers moved. The invisible walls around her vanished as Gavril started stalking back toward her as he left the peristyle.

She took a few steps forward before stopping and waiting for Gavril to approach her. Nikias vanished back into the palace, throwing a disgusted look at her before he went.

Marcella pulled her gaze away from where Nikias had disappeared as Gavril came back up to her. He muttered under his breath. “Mea spes, mea cupio—”

As he slowed, looking up at her, a deep searching in his gaze, she spoke softly, “For an argument that was about me, I find myself lost.”

Gavril sighed as he finally stopped, so close the faintest breeze would push them together. He said, “So too am I.”

She held her wrists out to him. “But I take it he was not pleased with this.”

“He…” Gavril took her wrists in his. His grip was firm but not painful, enough though that she knew it would be a wholly futile endeavor to try to extract herself from it. “I—”

He shook his head and started to walk, dropping one hand, leading her by her left. His fingers skimmed over the metal piece of the band, tracing the etching there. He seemed to calm as he did so. When they reached the spot they’d been before and he moved back to the ground, Marcella followed him. She knelt down and held her wrists out to him.

If she willingly let him put them back on, hopefully they would come off easier later.

This was a long game.

He blinked when he saw her offering her wrists, and then the edge on his face faded for just a moment before it came rushing back, and he just lay back on the blanket. And he didn’t let go of her left wrist. He muttered, “Not yet. A little longer. Please.”

Marcella wasn’t going to argue. She just shifted a little closer, and he pulled her wrist up to his chest. His fingers traced the lines on her wrist, and Marcella watched them glow.

His own vitae responded to his call, and… the anger at it had never come. Maybe it wasn’t going to. She supposed a brand was a brand even if they’d somehow forced their vitae onto each other. That just meant he was as branded as she was.

Her heart was racing faster than it had during any of the times they’d sparred. She stayed perfectly still, lying on the ground beside him.

It was better than sitting in her cell.

Chapter33

MARCELLA

Half a week passed before Marcella was brought out of her cell again.

She held her breath at the intersection like she always did, but they went left. Only this time when she was brought out to the courtyard, it wasn’t just her guards and Gavril this time.

Several of the Inimicus were back and twice as many guards as there ever had been.

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