Page 95 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

His tracking ability is frighteningly good. How did he get here so fast?

I crush my teeth against one another, not daring to move, watching his shadow as it falls over the form of the sleeping monster.

He will catch me some day.

The realization strikes with the force of a whip. The question isn’tif—it’swhen. It is only a matter of time until I make a mistake. How long can I stay a step ahead of him?

All it takes is one stumble, and then he’ll be upon me.

I squeeze my fist.

Not tonight. He is not getting me tonight.

Rahk stops a few paces away from the sleeping monster. I watch his shadow as his nose lifts into the air. When he turns his head, so his profile is clearly set against the smooth surface of the monster, his mouth is downturned. Confident in his own stealth, he silently marches toward the monster, and if not for his shadow, I never would have known he’d come. His right hand goes to the hilt of one of his swords, but he does not draw it as he approaches.

He kneels right in front of it. Where my discarded clothes are.

Then his head jerks upright. He scans the area. Looking for me. I keep my shriek firmly locked behind my teeth. I shift the rock in my grasp, but hesitate.

What if something happens to Rahk? What if this monster kills him—or both of us? The idea of him suffering harm is more upsetting than I want to consider.

But he’s the prince of the Nothril Court. He’s a fae warrior. He took down those assassins without hardly a thought.

He’s got to be able to handle this monster.

I have no other option to shake him off my trail. There are humans in the fae world right now, being ruined by their fae masters. As much as I may want to believe Prince Rahk isn’t like the rest of the fae, I have no choice in the matter. I will always choose my fellow humans over one of their kind.

So I throw the rock with every bit of power I can muster. Straight at the lidded eye of the monster.

The monster surges with a roar that sends shockwaves through the mud. Its tentacles—lined with long, sharp blades—unwind from around its body at a dizzying speed, sweeping the area around it with the force of a tornado. Rahk flips backward out of the way, catches the low hanging branch of a nearby swamp tree and hoists himself upright.

The monster’s tentacles come for him even there, slashing into the tree branch. Rahk swings to the opposite branch as he withdraws his sword and slices through monster flesh. The air splits with a rumbling roar. Then he drops to the ground, dodging another attack. The tentacle misses him, but slams hard into the rock I’m hiding behind. The force knocks me to my knees.

Rahk’s attention whips to me, no longer concealed. I stare at him through the slits of my mask. His gaze widens slightly.

Another slicing tentacle shoots for me at once, the large, gray monster eye fixing on me. The heel of my boot snags on the uneven terrain, and I fall backwards. I catch myself with my palms, unable to do anything but watch in the split second before the tentacle slices open my chest.

Rahk’s body suddenly blocks me, both of his swords swinging. The sliced bit of tentacle goes flying. I gasp. Mud sticks to my clammy skin.Why is he defending me?My senses return with that thought, and I scramble to my feet and try to run.

It’s Rahk’s own foot that I trip over next. I barely keep from swearing aloud in fury.

“I’m not here to hurt you! I need your help!” he shouts to me, his swords slashing as one of his feet presses into my ankle, keeping me from running.

I dare not speak to him for fear my voice will give me away. Instead, I grab my one not-very-good knife and, out of desperation, slice it lightly across the skin of his ankle. Barely enough to draw blood. Surprised, he shifts his weight, and I take the meager advantage to yank free.

He curses, then shouts as he dives and rolls back to his feet, dodging another flying tentacle: “Ivy Mask! Please! I need you to save my sister!”

His sister.The one he loves.

My heart fissures. He’s lying to me. He’s lying to trick me. To trap me. I hate myself for the way it almost works—the way I nearly stop running, pausing, to hear his case. I desperately want to believe that he hunts me for the purpose of gaining my alliance instead of hunting me down for his wicked parents. I want so badly for him to be on my side, and not working toward my death.

But I am not a fool. I saw what these fae did to my mother and many others. I know what they’re capable of. I’ve seen Rahk in the Nothril Court. He isn’t to be trusted—no matter how much I long to do exactly that.

I cannot risk my raids and the future of the people I rescue.

The monster shoots tentacles out of the pit. They latch onto trees, the few boulders, wrapping around them and thenpulling—dragging itself out of the pit. Rahk hacks at each tentacle, but he’s not fast enough. New ones shoot past him with every second. He leaps backward to keep from being skewered. I take the window of opportunity and run as fast as I can away from the scene. I glance back once to see Rahk trying to follow me, but tentacles keep coming for him.

I run and run and run, leaping onto the Path, but just as I think I’m safe, a snap resounds behind me. Fire erupts across my leg, followed by wet warmth. I manage to withhold my scream, but I fall hard to the ground.

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