Page 51 of Court of Rivals
A fourth man joins their circle. “Well, I’m a better dancer than all three of you–”
“I’ve got a larger dragon than all of you,” a fifth man says.
“Well, I have a larger dick!” the blond man practically shouts.
I look to Roland for help, but he’s backing off. Like he wants no part of this. I understand where he’s coming from, but for fucks sake, Roland needs to grow a pair. I’m no damsel in distress, but he’s the type of man to shriek and run when he sees a spider. It’s… not an attractive quality.
Before I can figure out what to say, they start shoving each other, which quickly devolves into a fist fight. I’m staring at them, jaw hanging open, trying to figure out what the hell is happening. These men are awful to me. They either ignore me or treat me like shit.So why the hell are they fighting just to dance with me?
There’s booming laughter behind me. I turn to see the king, standing in front of his throne, looking amused as hell while the dragon riders continue to beat the shit out of each other. Which is, frankly, weird. He’s the leader… shouldn’t he be stepping in to handle this?
“Harper.”
I turn and I’m suddenly pulled into a pair of very strong arms. My gaze snaps up to find Prince Lucien pulling me back out onto the dance floor, ignoring the fighting men like they don’t even exist. Every muscle in my body tenses and confusing thoughts roll through me. He looks… wonderful, unfortunately, his blond hair has been left loose around his face, drawing attention to the sharp lines of his face. He’s wearing a black suit with a green undershirt, the same beautiful shade of green as his eyes.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask, as he spins me around.
“Dancing. Are you not familiar with it?” He leans in, his voice a growl in my ear. “Because you seemed very familiar with it when you were dancing with Roland just now.”
A shiver rolls down my spine from his hot breath on my ear, and I don’t like the effect this man has on me.It’s probablyEbron's influence over me. Damn him.“I know what dancing is. I don’t knowwhyyou’re dancing withme.”
He’s quiet for a minute, his movements so graceful that I feel like we’re floating across the dance floor. “I just figured that if you could dance with him, you could dance with me.”
“That makes no sense.”
He shrugs, those beautiful eyes of his burning into me. “I didn’t say it made sense.”
This man is just accustomed to taking what he wants. To treating people like things instead of living beings. And, for some reason, he’s gotten himself confused. For some reason, he thinks I’m the kind of person to tolerate that shit.
My confusion gives way to anger. “You’re anasshole. Acreep. Someone who took advantage of me at a vulnerable moment. Men like you arescum. So, did you ever thinkImight not want to dance withyou?”
“The thought crossed my mind, and then, I ignored it. I’m a handsome prince afterall.”
Arrogant prick.
“Not to me,” I say, pulling out of his arms.
He catches me before I can leave the dance floor. His hand holding mine. His other at my waist, keeping me from leaving. “The song isn’t over yet, so I think it’s time we talked.”
“About what?” I ask, irritated.
Hasn’t everything that needs to be said been said? He’s made it clear he doesn’t want me here. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t think I deserve to be a dragon rider. Isn’t that all that matters?
Complicated emotions flash across his face for a brief moment before he says, “I apologize for what happened during hand-to-hand combat. I was only thinking of winning, and nothing beyond that.”
“Suck it.”
He gives a dry laugh. “Come on, all’s fair in love and war. Am I right?”
I glare. “How about next time I pull down your pants?”
“I’d gladly be pantsless with you.”
My glare deepens. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
He shifts an inch closer. “I know.”
“So, now what?” He won’t let me go, and yet, he has no reason to keep me so close.
