Page 37 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“A what?” He walked up to her.

“A tropical fish. It’s covered in little flat spikes. When it gets scared, it puffs up into a pointy ball.” She gestured with her hands to mime an object inflating. “To protect itself.”

“I see.” He extended his hand down to her. She took it, still impressed that he didn’t stab her with the talons as he hefted her up to her feet. “I wished to see if your ability was currently fear-based. It seems it is.”

“You could’ve just, I don’t know, startled me.” At least she wasn’t cold anymore. She marveled at the sight of her hand. It would take her a while to get used to being made out of fire.

“Mmh. Could have. Not nearly as amusing as that, however.” He chuckled again. “Question—did you honestly believe I was going to murder you, just now?”

“Kinda? I mean. It’d make sense if you just killed me, wouldn’t it? You’re trying to keep all the magic of the world trapped.” She waved her hand in front of her, watching the fire trail through the air.

“Perhaps.” He walked around her, circling her. She turned her head to watch him as he moved to stand behind her. He picked up a lock of her hair—which was also made out of fire, now—and curled it around his fingers. She watched as the iron of his armor began to glow, just a little.

“Does that hurt?” She frowned. “Your hand.”

“No. You would have to burn much brighter than this to harm me.” He rested his other hand on her shoulder, the points just barely resting on her skin. “Is that a relief or a disappointment, I wonder?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am flattered.” He stepped closer to her. She could feel him at her back, the armor just brushing up against her. “Hm. Your flame rises in temperature when you are nervous. Fascinating. You trulyarea ‘flaming pufferfish,’ aren’t you?” He chuckled. Placing his other hand on her shoulder, he now had one resting on either side of her neck. He tightened his grip just barely. Just enough to make his point.

Sure enough, she watched as her fire glowed brighter. Maybe it wasn’t nervousness that made it happen. She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him how conflicted she felt when he touched her. He was frightening—but itdidthings to her. Things she didn’t know how to handle.

She had to remind herself why she was supposed to hate him. More importantly, remind herself why she was supposed to be trying to overthrow him. “Why did you imprison the elementals?”

He let out a heavy breath and walked away from her. “I will reward you with your answer when we are done training.”

She watched as his armor flowed over the rest of him, not just his arms. It took over his body with its twisted, jagged, asymmetrical plates that were both graceful, beautiful, and strangely grotesque all at once. He was a work of art in his own right.

A helm overtook his face, and now he looked like a twisted knight from a nightmare. It resembled the skull of a dragon. He truly was a dread prince in rusted armor. Bizarre and awe-inspiring.

“Pick up your sword.” He gestured to where it lay on the packed dirt.

“Are you kidding me?” She stared down at the sword and then up at him. “You’re going toclobberme.”

“I have trained children to fight. You cannot be so different.” His smirk was audible even from behind the helm. Caliburn floated nearer to him, and he plucked it from the air. It was clearly supposed to be held with two hands, and the bastard could easily heft it with one.

“Hah, hah.” She sighed. The sword felt like a foreign object in her hand. She’d never really tried to use one before. When the hell would she have had the chance? “How is this supposed to help me control my fire?”

“In short? I am not sure it will.” He laughed. “But oh, it’s going to be fun.”

“For you.” She glared at him half-heartedly, her stomach still in knots from the moments before.

“And?” He cracked his neck from one side to the other, his armor clanking. “You’re standing all wrong.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“Like this.” He changed his posture. When she mimicked him, he nodded. “A good start. At least you take instruction well.”

“Thanks? I think?”

He walked up to her, and nudged her shoulders into apparently where they were supposed to be, and lifted her elbow farther away from her side. “There is only one problem.”

“Which is?”

“This.” He promptly kicked her right leg out, sending her toppling to the dirt.

“Ow.” She grunted and pushed up onto her elbow. “What the hell, man?”

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