Page 90 of Spearcrest Prince

She doesn’t even realise she’s being used. How could she know this kiss had nothing to do with her? My dick is pressed against her—how could she guess I’m only hard because a girl is looking at me across the room?

A girl I want, a girl who’s already mine—a girl I can’t have.

I look up. The pillar is vacant, Anaïs’s bottle of beer abandoned on the floor. I scan the crowd for the curtain of silky black hair, the blue bra, the ochre trousers.

Then I spot her, sidling down the wall, making a beeline to the door leading out to the arboretum.

I push Mellie away from me, muttering apologies. She looks at me with confusion.

What am I doing? The girl in my arms wants me, and I don’t want her. Now I’m abandoning her in the middle of the dancefloor—probably hurting her. The girl I want is gone because I was so desperate for her to know I don’t want her.

When, in fact, I want nothing else.

Iakov was right.

I reallyama stupid fuck.

Chapter 31

La Menteuse

Anaïs

AssoonasIwalk out of the building, emerging from the cloud of music and heat, I feel calmer.

It was too warm inside, too loud—too full of Séverin’s presence.

Outside, the air is icy and still. The frosty wind flutters the evergreens of the arboretum in a dull whisper.

I take a deep, calming breath. A voice startles me.

“Trésor—wait.”

I don’t even turn around. Heart in my mouth, I dive off the path and into the darkness of the arboretum.

My steps are long and quiet. I dash through the trees, hoping he won’t see me, hoping the shadows swallow me whole.

Quick footsteps reach my ear, drawing closer. I hesitate, debating whether I should break into a run.

The last time I tried running from him, I failed and was caught and punished—with Séverin’s particular brand of punishment.

On the other hand, I really don’t want to speak to him right now. In fact, I would rather jump off a cliff to my death than look him in the face.

I jerk into motion, but before I can even make the first step, a hand closes on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I close my eyes and swallow hard, hoping the lump in my throat will miraculously disappear before I’m forced to speak.

“Anaïs.”

Séverin tugs on my arm. Not a hard tug, but insistent, impossible for me to ignore. I turn and offer him my sweetest smile.

“Yes, Séverin.”

I pull my arm away from him; he lets go. I shiver in the cold air, wishing I’d brought a sweatshirt with me.

“Just say Sev,” he says with a frown. “Nobody calls me Séverin.”

My smile remains firmly in place. If I keep it pinned to my face, maybe I’ll keep all my emotions pinned inside my chest. “Of course, Sev.”

The less I fight, the quicker I can get this over with.

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