Page 120 of My Dark Horse Prince

“Can you lift me in the air?”

The smile steals across his face. “Of course.”

I try my best not to panic when gentle pressure from all sides wraps around me and I float up into the air more than a foot. “That’s plenty. Please put me down.”

He does, but he looks disappointed about it.

“Now. Do the same thing to her.” I point at Kris.

Her eyes widen. “But why?”

“Just do it?”

Grigoriy shrugs. And then he scowls. And then he leans forward a bit, his brow furrowing even deeper, his body angling more, like a runner about to take off. “What’s going on?”

“It didn’t work, right?” I ask.

Kristiana blinks.

“See?” I shake my head. “It’s more than just the villains. None of their powers work on you. . .except for Aleksandr’s.”

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“I have to go tell Aleksandr you have your powers back,” Kris says. “And I need to tell him about what we just tried, too. But you.” She beams at Grigoriy. “I’m so happy for you. And also, no floating or flying or zooming where anyone else can see you. Stay inside the barn if you’re floating, am I clear?”

She’s downright frightening when she’s giving orders.

Grigoriy salutes her. “Aye.”

She rolls her eyes before trotting out the door.

And the second she’s gone, the huge, half-naked mage lands right behind me.

“I’m happy for you,” I say, but my tone is flat. I’m clearly not happy.

But why not?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low.

“Nothing.” I poke his shoulder. “You need to go shower.”

“If I do, you’ll leave.”

I shrug. “I have a date to get ready for.”

He grits his teeth. “I forgot about that.”

“What do you care?” I ask. “You’re leaving soon anyway.”

“Leaving?” He frowns. “Why?”

“You can change back and forth any time you want, and now you can use your wind power whenever.”

“That’s true.” His brow furrows. “But why do you sound all grumpy about that?”

He won’t need to hold my hand anymore, and he won’t need to follow me around. Or stay where I am. Am I actually upset because I don’t want him to leave? That’s stupid. I want my life back. Now that my leg works, I want. . .

What do I want?

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