Page 12 of Prince of Never

He nodded at something over my shoulder, and I turned to see what he was staring at.The window was dark with night, but I could clearly see a foot gingerly picking out a hold in the foliage spilling across the glass.I swore, lurching to my feet, my heart immediately hammering as every muscle in my body tensed in readiness, and before I’d thought much more about what I was going to do, I’d darted across the library and wrenched open the window.

Imogen cried out in shock and raced a few steps back up the vine until she was just out of reach of my grasping hand.

‘What are you doing?If you fall from here, you’ll die,’ I yelled up at her.

‘Then I’ll save you the trouble of killing me,’ she called back, scrabbling to find her next foot hold, hissing in pain as she tightened her grip on the vine.Howshe’d made it this far was beyond comprehension, and why she was stupid enough to try it even more so.It would be so easy to just let her fall, let her do for me what I’d failed to achieve myself.She’d hardly be able to keep her grip on the venebria for much longer.But my body seemed to no longer belong to me, and my boot was already on the windowsill without my deciding to put it there.I grit my jaw against the bright flare of pain that shot through my hand as I took hold of the vine and the acid secreted by the leaves burned away at my skin.

She struck out to the left, trying to keep out of reach, to where the venebria forked out along the wall in another direction.She gripped the vine gingerly, like she was trying to keep as little of her hand in contact with it as she could, at a time when she needed to hold it tightly.Her foot prodded at the wall, searching for her next hold.

‘Imogen, stop.’I reached for her, but the closer I got, the more frantic her movements became.‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘Says the guy who broke into my apartment, attacked me, dragged me into another world, and then locked me in a tower.Yeah, you seem real trustworthy.’

She leaned into her next foothold, and the wall crumbled beneath her step.She screamed as she slipped, her burning fingers the only thing keeping her from falling.I lunged for her just as one hand slipped off, grabbing a hold of her arm and yanking her against me.I groaned as I tightened my grip on the vine and the pain intensified, but kept my hold, managing to pull us both back onto the ledge.As soon as we were through the window, I released the vine and we went tumbling to the library floor.Wincing, I pushed myself up, a growl in the back of my throat at the sight of Imogen, her hair in snarls, riddled with dirt and leaves.

‘You’re a fool.What possessed you to try something so stupid?’I demanded.

‘What other choice did I have?’She grimaced as she sat up, and when she looked at me, her eyes were glassy with pain.She flexed her hands gingerly, gasping as she curled her fingers over palms that were red and blistered.‘It was a better option than waiting around for you to decide my fate for me.’

And as irritating as it was that she’d climbed out the damn window, I could begrudgingly respect her need to take action.Releasing an angry sigh, I turned to Arun.

‘Can you go and find something for her hands?’The look he gave me made me consider assigning him to feeding Melaie.It was a mixture of satisfaction and pity.

But all he said was, ‘Of course.’

When I returned my focus to Imogen, I caught her studying me.She dropped her gaze too quickly for me to catch the expression.

‘Please let me go home,’ she said, staring at her hands.‘I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but I’m sure you’re wrong.I’m just a librarian.’

‘It’s less about what you’ve done than what youwilldo.’

‘What does that even mean?How can you keep me prisoner for something I haven’t even done yet?’

Arun returned, saving me from having to respond.I took the jar of balm he offered.‘You can go,’ I said, ignoring the raised eyebrows.He lingered for a moment, like he wanted to wait around and watch, but a sharp look from me finally prompted him to move on.

I made to drop into a crouch by her side to tend to her hands, but she immediately scuttled away, sliding along the floor as fast as her injured feet could push her.Clicking my tongue, I rolled the jar to her instead.‘Put that on the burns,’ I said, returning to my armchair.She unscrewed the lid and sniffed the contents cautiously, screwing up her nose at the smell, but she scooped a dollop of the balm out and smeared it over her palm.Instantly, she relaxed, releasing a shaky sigh as she worked it between her fingers, where her skin had started to peel.

‘Who keeps a plant like that in their home?’she grumbled as she worked.

‘Just be thankful it wasn’t the carvora on the east wing.It catches its prey by releasing a pollen that causes hallucinations.You would have been lured into a fluid sack and digested alive.’

Her mouth popped open, and she paused in her balm-smearing to stare at me.‘Why would anyone want such violent plants?’

‘My grandmother liked a garden that fought back.’I watched her as she resumed her ministrations, noting the ugly red marks and blisters cutting across her legs and feet and sitting with the compulsions gnawing at me, feeling them out and trying to understand them.The need to go to her, to care for her, totouchher, was incessant.It hadn’t lessened at all.Whatever had bound us was undeniably strong.

But amate bond?

‘Where would you have gone if you’d made it to the ground?’I asked her, shaking off the thoughts.

She was examining her foot and dabbing ointment on one of her toes.Her feet were small, fine-boned.‘Home, obviously.’

‘You wouldn’t have made it that far.This world isn’t like yours, Imogen.If you think violent plant life is bad, you’ll soon learn that there are far worse things beyond these walls.’

She stretched her legs out before her to flex her feet, now shiny with ointment, toes covered in angry red blisters.‘If you’re trying to scare me out of running away, it isn’t going to work.I think you’ve just learned that I’m willing to take my chances with pain.’

‘I don’t think you’re going to be running anywhere for a while,’ I said dryly, and she flashed me a scowl.‘But if you have such strong objections to staying in the room I gave you, then perhaps you can make yourself useful while you’re here.’I stood, reclaimed the jar, lingered to savour the sight of her looking up at me from her position on the floor, her neck craned, her face wary.‘You can work off some of that energy you seem to have so much of.’

She climbed to her feet and made a show of standing normally, of swallowing down the pain she must have been in.But I didn’t miss the tension in her shoulders, the ginger shifting of weight to different parts of her feet.‘What are you talking about?’she said.

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