Page 187 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

“But mostly,” I continue, before he can remember his duty and leave me, “I miss the stories the people would tell. Their lives are so short, and yet there is something so raw and real about their flaws, their death, their love. It captivates me.”

Rahk’s gaze shutters slightly. I can feel him drawing away from me, but not because I’ve bored him. Because I’ve brought to mind things he wishes to forget.

It hurts far more than I thought it would—to see him trying so hard to forget me. To see him withdrawing from anything that might make him think of me.

I cannot let him leave me on this note. Even though my heart cracks anew, as though freshly broken, I force a smile onto my face and ask, “What about you? Do you ever think of your time in the human worlds?”

He looks out across the dark river. He is silent for so long, I’d fear he wasn’t going to respond at all—except I know him too well for that.

“Not a moment goes by that I do not think of the human realms.” His voice is low, and far more honest than I would have expected. “Or what I left there.”

The declaration makes my knees shake. I struggle to find my voice amid the rush of blood in my ears. “Someone? Or one of the box-on-wheels creatures?”

He doesn’t smile at my joke, nor does he answer my question.

“Ah,” I say with a little chuckle. “I see.”

His eyes meet mine in question for a split second, before they shut in defense. “I doubt you do. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

No. I cannot let him go.

Will I ever be ready to let him go? No. But I need just one more moment.

“Did you bond with her then?” I ask quickly before he leaves.

His reply is gruff. “Of course not.”

“But you loved her.”

The muscles of his throat constrict as he takes one step away, putting distance between us. Then his attention returns to me. “What did you say your name was?”

The request is so abrupt that my mind momentarily goes blank. What did Tailor say my false name was? Why can I not remember it?Ariselle.Right. “Ariselle. Of Nothnim.”

Rahk’s black eyes dilate. He steps toward me, and when he gets very close, I retreat by instinct. He cannot see through my glamour—I still have time before it fails.

“That is an interesting trick you’ve just accomplished,” Rahk says coolly, cornering me against the rocky wall of the cavern. His entire demeanor has changed in one instant. The face I look upon is cold, mixed with a strange sort of delight—that of a cat cornering a mouse.

“Prince Rahk,” I say uneasily, telling myself repeatedly there is no way he could have seen past my glamour, “this is quite forward of you. We’ve only known each other for minutes.”

I catch my mistake before the words have even finished leaving my mouth.

The next instant, a thin dagger is in Rahk’s hand, the tip pressed against my throat. I go still.

“What a very human thing to say,” he says, his eyes gleaming like I have never seen before. “Right after you tell a lie with no scent.Ivy Mask.”

I have played with fire. Now it is time to be devoured by it. I always knew it would come to this.

No,I growl inside my own head.You do not give up.

“Ooh, I like this,” I laugh, reaching up to touch the tip of the blade. It’s so sharp I barely feel the prick before I start bleeding. “Is this part of your wooing, Prince Rahk? If so, consider mecaptivated.”

His eyes seem to pierce into my soul, as though to strip the truth from the lies, trying to understand how I can be a human and yet wear glamours without a fae to maintain them.

I stand on my tiptoes, leaning into the dagger and embracing its sting. He reacts at once, lightening the pressure on the blade to not cut me too deeply. Because he wants me alive? Or because he is no longer sure?

My heart rages in my chest. He knows I am not a fae, which leads to the only assumption that I am the Ivy Mask—but he has been convinced that Kat is not the Ivy Mask. This leaves me with only one option.

An option that might be just as condemning as it could be convincing.

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