Page 60 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

I rush from my room into the prince’s. It is dark, swaths of curtains covering the windows, the thick blankets on the bed untouched save where the prince sat while I bound his injury. He is not here. My heart in my throat, I hurry to the window. My fingers shake slightly as I grab the curtain and pull it aside.

A pair of eyes stare back at me.

My blood screams.

I shove the curtain into place as if it will save me from the knife I saw glinting in that man’s hand and throw myself in the opposite direction. I crash into the table where we play Fool’s Circle, pain flaring in my leg.

Righting myself, I bolt out the door into the darkened hallways. My breath comes fast. That wasn’t a fae—that was a man. They’re all human men. Which means . . .

“Lord Rahk!” I yell, breathless, not thinking straight. “Lord Rahk!”

I careen down another hallway until I get to the door of his study.

It’s locked.

“Lord Rahk!” I bellow, slamming the side of my fist into the door. It doesn’t open. I curse and whirl around. The door to the parlor is open. Inside, faint moonlight gleams off the marble bust of Botsov. I say a prayer as I run to grab it. It’s so heavy I nearly drop it. “Lord Rahk!” I scream again as I bash the heavy bust headfirst into the lock. The door buckles, but doesn’t break. I give my next hit everything I have. The door flies open.

The prince lifts his head blearily from his desk, his eyes widening at the sight of me standing there, in the dimness, clutching a marble bust.

And behind him, in the window, are three silhouettes. One eases the pane open silently.

Assassins.

They’ve not come for me—they’ve come for the prince.

“Behind you!” I scream and hurl Botsov toward the window. Rahk dodges out of the way. It sails through the glass, shattering on impact. The assassins split to avoid getting hit.

Rahk curses, already on his feet as one assassin leaps through the broken window. He bounds over the desk and ducks behind it as he reaches beneath it to grab one of his long swords. The assassin corners him between the bookshelves I recently reordered as two more pour through the window. But Rahk is so fast I cannot even see what he does before the first assassin lies dead on the ground. The other two fly at him, their swords gleaming in the darkness. He counters and ducks beneath their strikes to dance away from the corner.

The fourth assassin creeps just outside the window. He lifts a crossbow, aiming at Rahk just as he cuts down the second assassin.

“Rahk! The window!” I cry, just as the assassin looses his arrow.

In a flash, Rahk seems to bend backward, almost folding in half. The arrow lodges in a book’s spine. Rahk throws his palm upright and searing light fills the room. He growls in pain. Did one of them land a blow?

But no, the assassin with the crossbow has collapsed, the window blackened.

I need to get out of here or I will become collateral damage. I whirl. My nose rams into a hard, black-wreathed chest. I drag my gaze up to the black mask and hood, with only a slit for a pair of gleaming eyes.

The next second, he has me pinned, my back to his chest, holding me by the throat and pressing a knife to my temple.

“Rahk,” I squeak as I grab the assassin’s wrist, trying to pry his grip free.

“Drop your weapons,” growls the assassin holding me. “Or this one dies.”

Rahk’s black eyes fall on me just as he yanks his sword out of the chest of the third assassin, leaving only one other standing—besides the one that holds me.

“You think he cares if I live or die?” I snap. “How about we go find better hostage material?”

His fingers tighten around my throat. I choke. His knife stings against my temple. Warmth dribbles down the side of my face.

Rahk’s sword clatters to the ground.

My eyes bug. “What are you doing? Don’t you know that they always kill the hostage anyway?”

“Why are you here?” Rahk demands, keeping his eye on both assassins, tensing as the other one circles behind him. “Did the queen send you?”

The second assassin lunges. Rahk sidesteps the knife coming for his back and holds up both hands.

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