Page 100 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“You’re here for me, and I’m here for you. That’s what best friends are for.”
She throws herself in my arms and hugs me tight. “Goodnight, my sweet Beth.”
“Goodnight, Will.”
“Thank you for being a true friend.”
With a final glance, I step into the hallway, the soft click of the door behind me marking the end of this quiet moment. The long, gilded corridors blur together, and my heart races as I take turn after turn. I briefly wonder what it would be like if I ended up crossing paths with Aidan or somehow found his room first, but the fantasy quickly disappears in favor of a real fear of losing my way in this labyrinthine castle.
Relief washes over me when I finally find my room, grateful for my decent sense of direction despite the disorienting twists—and only slightly disappointed that Aidan is not there, waiting for me, as I thought he might be.
I kick off my heels, the marble floor cool and slightly damp beneath my feet, the open window letting in the morning dew. A deep sigh quakes my chest as I start inspecting the seams of my custom-made dress for a way out. My fingers fumble until they find the little clasp, and I unhook it with a soft snap.
But an eerie sensation slithers across the back of my neck, sending a chill through me. I squint at the empty room.
“Ezra?” I call, dragging my eyes to the gentle sway of the curtains, the warm summer breeze whistling softly through the window. “Ezra, are you in here? Don’t play games with me. I’m not in the mood.”
Extending my arms, I search the shadows, each step making the floor seem colder, the silence heavier. What kind of mood must Ezra be in to sneak into my bedroom at this hour without a word?
When my hand finally collides with something solid—an invisible wall—I growl in frustration. “Ezra! Come on!”
“Now, why would my son be sneaking into your bed on the eve of his wedding, Miss Snow?”
I jolt away from the apparition, ice spreading all over the marble floor.
“You and Aidan make a cute couple. Does your fiancé know about your very high-profile lover, or is he as blind to it as he’s inattentive to the poor state of his kingdom?” Ethan Lightbringer says slowly, drinking in my reaction.
I sink my nails in my palms, unsure of what to say, if anything. I’ve heard the rumors, and if this king is not above beating his sons bloody, Thanatos knows what he’ll do to me.
He sits on the edge of the bed as though he means to get himself comfortable. “Relax, your secret will be safe with me, Miss Snow. I’m sure, between us, we can come to a quick agreement. By the Flame, if you make it worth my while, I might agree to support you financially when this whole thing explodes in your face.”
“Worth your while?” I stammer.
His wicked eyes shine in the dark. “Tonight, I mean.” He sinks back on the mattress, arms braced behind his head. “Strip for me, Miss Snow. I want to admire your body without all that useless fabric obstructing it.”
Bile rises to my mouth as I lift my hands in denial. “I— No, Sir. Respectfully.” I tack on the last part, hoping it softens the edge in my voice and masks the rising panic.
His brows bunch together, though his smile widens in contrast as if he knows something I don’t. “Are you the kind of girl who will destroy her future for nothing?”
I bite my tongue not to answer.
I can’t afford to anger him, not when we’re alone in a bedroom in the middle of the night, but he must read the determination on my face, because he adds, “If you deny me, I will expose your silly romance, and you will lose everything.”
“Then I’ll live with the consequences, Your Majesty.”
He jumps out of bed so fast, I barely follow his movements. “You think a moth like you can say no to a king like me?”
I inch toward the door, but he corners me between the sofa and the tall mirror hung on the wall.
Out of instinct, I summon an ice dagger and aim it at his incoming form, but he wraps a hand around my wrist, and the weapon crumbles to dust in my grip.
“I’m the King of Light.” He flattens me to the reflective glass, and his nails sink painfully into my skin, his hold strong enough to bruise. “And when I tell you to strip for me, the only acceptable answer isyes, Sir.”
I push my ice forward, but it bounces off his body and spreads across my skin instead, the impact shattering the mirror. Frost coats my arms, shoulders, and chest until I feel like nothing more than a frozen statue, immobile and docile as the King of Light tears the dress off my frame, leaving me in nothing but two flimsy pieces of underwear.
A gut-wrenching sob grinds between my lips.
“Now, shall we try that again?” he asks.
