Page 25 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
The last thing I should be doing tonight is leaning any further into that weird hypnotic thrall Aidan’s got going for him.
His lips curl down. “Normally, I would agree, but we have to get our stories straight. The Crow is already asking questions about your performance, so we can’t afford to wait. Head to your room now.”
My mouth dries up. “My room?”
“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.” He gulps down the rest of his cup and discards it on the nearest table, walking away without another word.
My head swims. He certainly didn’t wait long to come and collect what he thinks he’s owed. Well, if he tries to blackmail me into sleeping with him, he’s got an ice dagger coming for his throat. But in spite of the boulder in my chest, my skin tingles.
Aidan’s piercing amber stare, his long brown lashes, the glistening ridges of his bare chest, and the damn V-line above his godly marks replay behind my closed eyelids like my very own wicked brain cinema.
A small voice inside me coos.Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to play— No!
If I’m to be expelled tonight, it might as well be for assaulting a prince than for cheating in the trials.
Chapter 9
Stalk Me
SONGBIRD
Heartbeats resonate at my temples as I study the small living room and kitchenette. Two studded green velvet chairs and a small sofa are arranged around a table. Out here in the common area, there’s enough privacy for my little chat with Aidan.
Before I left the party, I told Iris and Willow I was dead tired and asked if they wanted to come back to the room with me. I’d hoped to erase their suspicions, maybe even keep Aidan away, but they’d refused.
You’ll be fine. But no matter what, don’t let him into your room. And you should definitely change.
I slam my bedroom door shut and strip off the revealing corset and short skirt, then unpack a loose, understated, form-erasing pajama set from my trunk. The flannel ensemble has a row of buttons down my chest, and high-rise pants. I bet the girls here sleep in silk negligees and lacy underwear, but moths use their sleeping clothes to ward off the cold, not lure in their lovers. Perfect for sending a clear message.
I slip on the pants first and unbutton the top, but my hands suddenly clench the fabric. The fiery imprint of Aidan’s gaze travels along my naked back, and my spine stiffens. With a shaky breath, I pull on my shirt and button it down, making sure to secure them all in place, even the one near the collar I usually never fasten.
When I’m decent, I spin around at the sound of a gentle knock on the glass. Aidan has climbed the vines to my third-floor window, his loose grin as wicked as the way he taps, motioning for me to remove the flimsy golden hook that serves as a latch.
I crack open the window. “You make a habit of stalking women while they change?”
“Only you, Songbird.” He licks his lips, his eyes trailing down my body. The vines grow, giving him better access as he boosts himself onto the rocky ledge, spreading his arms to grip both sides of the open window. “And I told you I was coming, so… with you stripping in full view of my gardens, I could only assume you wanted me to see you.”
Mygardens, notthegardens. Like he owns the school and everyone in it. Bastard.
“And I assumed you’d use the door like a normal person.”
He chuckles, then leaps over the windowsill bench, barefoot and graceful as a cat. “I’m not normal.”
Behind him, the branches of the willow tree snake toward the glass, providing some cover as one gnarly sprig inches the window closed.
“What are you wearing? Armor?” he asks.
“It’s pajamas.”
His lips purse in a grimace like he can’t wait to set the whole thing on fire. “If you say so.”
He seems far too comfortable sneaking through women’s windows, and I cross my arms to create a barrier between us. He’s still half-naked, wearing the same dark, laced-up trousers he had on earlier by the bonfire.
The tip of his infamous mark peeks above the waistband, but I refuse to steal a full glance, keeping my eyes firmly on his face. It would be much easier to avoid ogling him if I could just close my eyes entirely.
Aidan walks around the bed, skimming through the tall pile of notebooks and novels I unpacked on the nightstand, before his gaze shifts to the stripped, empty bed across the room. “You got a private room. Interesting.”
When he moves to pick up one of my journals, I rush over to him and slam my hand down firmly on the leather cover to stop him. “Stop snooping around my things. You said we had to talk so…talk.”
