Page 56 of A Vow of Shadow and Blood
Never show a vampire your weakness; it’s the easiest way to get yourself killed.
“I know you’re a self-righteous bastard who thinks he can have whatever he wants.”
I know I shouldn’t have said it the moment it slipped out, but I’ve forced the memory of last night into my brain. The sight of those vampires tearing the humans apart like they were nothing, of Amabel ripping Tori’s life away. Perhaps I’ll die for my words — maybe that would be best for Willow. Tori trusted me and look where it got her.
Neither of us breaks eye contact in the deadly silence of the room. The tick of his jaw is the only indication that my words affect him. He cocks his head as if assessing me like a new toy he has yet to play with. Then the arrogant bastard’s lips lift into a cocky smirk. Anger that is both mine and Athriel’s pounds in my chest, making my head throb and my vision blur. I curl my fingers into a tight fist that has my nails biting into the skin of my palm. But I feel nothing. I feel nothing but rage.
His eyes drop to my fist, and then his attention is drawn elsewhere. He lets his hand fall from my chin, moving it to curl around my waist before pulling me almost flush against him. I tense as he lowers his other hand between us, my back stiffening when I feel the rough pads of his fingers slide beneath the folds of my dress. His eyes hold mine in a challenge as he trails his hand down the length of my thigh, sending goosebumps scattering over my flesh. He only stops when his fingers graze the edge of the strap holding my dagger in place. In a flash, he draws the blade from its sheath and presses it to my throat.
My eyes narrow in a silent dare that has his lips curving into a wicked grin. There’s no escaping now. Not only have I insulted him, but he’s found an illegal weapon on me. I have witnessed vampires kill for far less. I straighten my back in a challenge that has the stupid smile on his face widening.
“So full of surprises.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and the action catches his attention.
He sighs before disappearing in front of me at an unnatural speed. By the time I blink he is standing halfway across the room, his eyes firmly on me as he slips my dagger into the belt at his waist. I exhale at the loss of his proximity as if I had been holding it in the entire time. I grit my teeth. I want to storm up to him and take the weapon from his possession, but I find myself remaining perfectly still.
“I shall keep hold of this. It is illegal for a human to carry a weapon after all, but I’m sure your extensive knowledge of me and my court means you already know that.”
He raises his brows, but I do not back down.
“I’m very well-versed on the laws of this court, and it explicitly states that a human is forbidden from carrying a shadow weapon. I think you’ll find the dagger issteel.”
Both the prince and Athriel laugh at my retort.
“Indeed, it is.” For the first time since entering the room, his attention falls to the other donors. “And which one of you is Adina Barron?”
I smile innocently as I clear my throat. “That would be me, yourhighness.”
“Of course it is.” He smiles. “I’m glad to see you are at least able to follow some instructions.”
He gestures toward the black dress I was told he had requested for his donor to wear in honor of the crown’s colors.
“I shall leave you ladies alone to prepare for the evening, after all, it’s going to be a long night.”
With that, he turns on his heel and leaves the room.
Killing him is going to be the highlight of my night.
What a shame, I quite like him.
Of course you do.
A low chuckle fills my mind as I push it away and continue to get ready for this long night with every pair of eyes in the dressing room watching me like I have completely lost my mind. Perhaps I have, but the prince seems to like this game, and if I have to use it to my advantage to get close enough to kill him, then that is exactly what I will do.
“Where is the black dress?” Cora hisses as we all gather outside the arched doorway to the private dining room. The vampire council is already inside, and we are to make a grand entrance in a few moments. Another ridiculous spectacle to partake in.
“It was damaged,” I lie.
Her face twists in confusion.
“But I checked it several times. I don’t understand.”
She shakes her head, and a wave of guilt fills my chest as I smooth my hand down the silver material of my gown.
“Perhaps I did it when I put it on.”
“Perhaps.” She says with a lilt of suspicion. She turns her attention to the others, her eyes scanning over them as if afraid to find something else amiss. When she doesn’t, the tightness in her body eases. Right on cue, Amabel waltzes into the small space, and I find myself clenching my fists.
