Page 42 of Court of Rivals
He opens his mouth, then closes it.
There’s a knock at my door. He turns, instantly looking irritated.
I cross the room and open the door, spotting a slightly drunk Roland.
“You disappeared from the tavern. I was worried about you.”
“Come in,” I say.
He comes in, looking pleased, and I’m pretty sure all my talk of horniness has other ideas in his head, but then he spots Prince Gareth, and his face falls. “Oh, I thought you were alone.”
“He was just leaving.”
Prince Gareth’s expression darkens as it moves from me to him. “I wasn’t.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
I sigh. “Just go.”
He crosses his arms in front of his chest and glares. “Not a chance.”
I’m about to get mad when another idea comes to me. I walk up to Roland and run a hand down his chest. “Apparently, Prince Gareth would like to watch. Are you up for that?”
“Wh-what?” Rolands sputters.
Prince Gareth strides over to us, grabs a fistful of Roland’s shirt, and hauls him toward the door while the other man continues to sputter. Tossing him out into the hall, Prince Gareth looks between him and I. “Roland is to spend the night in his own room.”
“As soon as you leave, I’m bringing him back,” I say, flicking my hair over my shoulder.
He grabs my arm and hauls me out the balcony doors. “See that,” he points to the room across the practice yard from mine. “That’s my room. If I see anything even a little suspicious, I’m going to be over here in a heartbeat.”
I give him my most charming smile. “Thanks for warning me. I’ll keep the doors closed.”
The look on his face makes me want to laugh. I’ve won this one, and he knows it, but then the fire leaps into his eyes once more, and he leans down over me. “I guess I’ll be spending my night outside your door.”
Shocked, I say, “You wouldn’t.”
His expression is cocky. “I would.”
Then, he strides toward the door, ignoring me while I try to come up with something to say. It’s not that I want Roland in my room. It’s not that I want to fuck him. I’m just tired of constantly being told what to do.
“The second you’re not out there–”
“Then, I’ll make sure I’m out there,” he says, grinning wickedly.
He leaves my room, and I slam the door. There’s no way he’s going to spend the night standing guard outside my room, Iknow that. And the second he leaves, I’m going to make certain to imply I fucked Roland every chance I get.
Time passes. I read more in my book about dragon riders and the Hollowborn ignoring the feeling of bugs crawling under my skin. Ignoring the need to touch myself. The chapter drawls on about the fact that there’s nothing the Hollowborn crave more than being close to life, since they are not alive the same way we are. There are no heartbeats. No blood. No love. No fear. They’re not human. Not the way we are.
I change for bed. Watch as the fire gets smaller. Then, quiet as a mouse, I toss on my robe, creep to the door and peek out. There, standing across the hall is Prince Gareth. One foot on the stone wall, leaning back, like this is the most normal situation in the world. His gaze moves to my open robe, and I close it angrily.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“And I bet you’re still wet and sticky,” he says, grinning as his gaze goes to my thighs. “Pretty miserable, isn’t it?”
I slam the door again and stomp back to my bed.I hate these fucking princes.
