Page 100 of Dark Prince's Mate

Tarix is still out on his shopping errand, but it’s been a while.He could return at any moment.

I refocus my efforts on finding animals around the cabin in which he has locked me.He was clever enough to make sure there are none except for birds and insects.I test my power on a few ants that pass through the kitchen.The ants change direction as I command them.However, they’re of no use to me.I can’t attack Tarix with a few sugar ants.If they were fire ants, it would’ve been a different story.

Where the hell am I?There’s not even a bee or a wasp around, and it’s freezing cold.

I stoke the fire I built in the fireplace so that it doesn’t go out.I found a few pieces of wood, old newspapers, and a box of matches in the cupboard next to the fireplace.The warmth is welcome, but my main objective is boiling the water in the pot that hangs from a hook over the flames.

Rubbing my arms, I take stock of the space for a second time in case I’ve missed something that could be useful as a weapon, but the room is pretty much bare.It’s not a very comfortable hideout.

Awareness of Aruan hits me just as I throw the last log onto the fire.The sensations changing inside me are both scary and beautiful.I’ve never felt anything like it.The vagueness of our bond is gone, and in its place is pure and certain clarity.My whole body trembles with cognizance while heat shoots up my veins.I swear every cell in my body is vibrating.Most of all, there’s a deep-seated notion of being whole and complete.It’s as if an open line of communication has been established between our souls.I don’t know why or how it’s happened.All I know is…

He’s here!

The knowledge gives me strength.I want to cry with relief, but the fight is far from over, and there’s no guarantee that Aruan will find me in time.

I’ve barely had a few seconds to enjoy my first experience of our fully formed bond when a portal appears.A part of me hopes it will be Aruan, but the bond tells me differently.

When Tarix appears with a brown shopping bag under each arm, I’m ready.I throw the boiling water in his face and hit him hard over the head with the pot.He drops the bags, covering his face with his arms as he fights to stay on his feet.I block out his horrible screams, trying not to think about the damage I’m doing as I hit him over and over again.

I swing the pot through the air, putting all my strength into it, but Tarix is strong.He deflects my blows without going down.I’m quickly tiring myself while his knees aren’t even buckling.

I’ve got the pot firmly in my grasp, bringing it down for another hit when he knocks it from my hands.For a second, the sickening sight of his face—skin blistered and red, eyes puffy and swollen with the pupil of one a milky color, and brown hair caked with blood—catches me off-guard.

He grabs me in that moment’s hesitation, locking his hands around my raised arms.

Snarling, he drags me closer.“You’re going to regret this.I was going to end you painlessly.”

I kick and twist.Even injured, he’s as strong as a bear, easily wrapping his hands around my neck and cutting off my airflow.I scratch his arms, but my efforts have no effect on him.I aim for his eyes and the bubbly, angry-red skin of his cheeks, my nails not finding their target as he easily lifts me off my feet.

I land kicks on his stomach and chest.He doesn’t even grunt.He’s like a wall of bricks, the muscles beneath his clothes hard and unrelenting.I tear at his hair until my fingers come away with bloodied tufts sticking to them, but he only squeezes harder.Spots burst behind my eyes.My vision grows dark around the edges, unconsciousness starting to creep in.

“You’re not dying that easily,” he says through gritted teeth.“Not before I carve off your face.”

He unlocks one hand from around my throat and plants a fist on my jaw at the same time as he releases me.The blow knocks my head sideways even as my body crumples to the ground.Air hits my lungs just as the wind is knocked out of my sails.I’m gasping like a guppy on dry ground, helpless to do anything but curl into myself before he plants a boot in my ribs.

Shit, that hurts.

He pulls back his leg and aims again.I scavenge the strength I have left, catching his ankle and yanking with all my might.He falls backward with flailing arms, hitting the floor on his ass and winning me a few precious seconds to push myself onto my hands and knees.But he’s faster than I am.

I brace myself for the impact as he bends his knee.I can’t die here.I have to fight.For Aruan, my new life, and most of all, for myself.I didn’t escape death countless times only to give in now, to the likes of Tarix, no less.

Throwing myself at him, I tackle him with my arms around his thighs.We go down with me on top.He grabs a fistful of my hair and drags my head back.Before he can throw me off of him, I punch a fist between his legs.He wheezes and pulls up his knees, hitting me in the stomach in the process.

I elbow him in the nuts, making him howl.While he cups his crown jewels, I struggle to my feet.That’s when I feel him.

Aruan.

A portal appears.I press the heel of my boot on Tarix’s throat, applying just enough pressure not to crush his windpipe.He grabs my ankle and then goes still as the circle of lights turns brighter.

“That’s right, Tarix,” I spit out.“Your game is over.”

He grins sardonically, holding my gaze as he changes into the queen again.Aruan exits the portal to find me pinning his mother down on the floor with a boot on her neck, her face horribly disfigured and her hair clotted with blood.

Aruan stops in his tracks.Rage contorts his features.

Tarix raises a pale hand to Aruan.“Aruan, help me,” he pleads in the queen’s voice.“Please.It’s a trap.I came to help Elsie, but look what she’s done to me.”

Shit.I know how this must appear.But then I look into Aruan’s eyes, and everything that’s happened passes between us without him or me saying a word.

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