I felt the sudden shifting in the chamber. Tiny hairs along the nape of my neck rose as a charge hit the air. A clicking noise sent a shiver over my skin— the distinctive sound of a lock.
Heart thudding, I slowly turned to the door. There was no way. I lowered the empty glass to my side.
The door swung open and he stood there, legs planted wide and shoulders squared, hair swept back from his striking features and knotted. The armor still shielding his chest. He looked like a warrior, and one thing became clear.
Prince Thorne had come to conquer.
CHAPTER 25
Prince Thorne crossed the threshold, the light of my chamber glinting off the golden hilt of the dagger strapped to his chest.
I didn’t think. I should have, but I simply reacted.
I threw the glass at the Prince of Vytrus.
In the brief seconds following the glass leaving my hand, I realized I’d had no idea of how reckless, how idiotic I truly was until that very moment.
The glass stopped in midair, several feet from the Prince.
I sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening.
“Na’laa,”Prince Thorne rumbled softly, the blue of his eyes a brilliant shade. The glass shattered into nothing— absolutelynothing.Not even tiny shards remained. It was simply obliterated.
I took an unsteady step back.
He smiled, and I shivered like any prey would upon realizing they’d not only come face-to-face with a honed predator but had taunted them. “You have a very good arm on you,” he said. “Though, I would’ve preferred to discover that in a way that didn’t involve an object being thrown at my head.”
My heart thumped so fast I feared I might be sick. “I . . . I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Really?” he drawled.
Swallowing, I nodded. “The glass slipped from my fingers.”
An eyebrow rose. “Slipped all the way across the room?”
“You startled me,” I argued, fully realizing how ridiculous my excuse was. “I wasn’t expecting someone to unlock the door and barge in. Though, I should have. You do have a habit of such.”
“You know very little of what habits I have.” One side of his lips tipped. “But I do knowyouhave a habit of lying, which I do enjoy immensely.”
I stiffened. “I beg to differ. I know of at least two habits. Barging into places you’re not invited and insisting upon insulting my honor each time you see me.”
“How is it an insult to your honor when it’s truth?” he countered. “Perhaps you dishonor yourself by lying.”
My chest rose as anger lanced through me. “Why are you here, Your Grace?”
“We have an arrangement.”
“We do not, but that’s not the point. I have a headache.”
“Yes, one that is six feet and seven inches in shape?”
I gaped. “It was not I who said that.”
“I know. Those were Lord Bastian’s words.” He glanced around the room, gaze skipping over my shoes and the uncorked bottle of whiskey. “He always likes to shave an inch from my height so that I’m not taller than him.”
My brow creased; then I gave a small shake of my head. “Be that as it may, I still have a headache and I’m not feeling up to company this evening.”
Those swirling irises settled on me. “You and I both know that’s not the case.”