Page 36 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

Despite my best efforts not to react, my teeth grit together. Christmas… the night he robbed me of my first kiss and broke my heart. To this day, snowflakes and candy canes still set me on edge. When we got to Hadria and discovered he’d already transitioned, Lucas and I spent months gossiping about his antics, bound together in our grim fascination for the bully that didn’t want to play by the rules.

“You left for Hadria on Christmas, I think? Or was it right after? I can’t remember,” I say, playing dumb.

He cups the side of my face, grinning like he’s delighted by my answer—and believes none of it. “Lie to the night court, Lil’ Bit, but you don’t have to pretend with me.” His hand wanders dangerously close to my ass. “Our legacy will not allow us to be meek. The blood you feasted on in that chamber and every night since throbs in your veins, calling for sin and violence. I remember how maddening it was the first week. The dull pounding in my head would not relent, and I was dying to drain a room full of slaves, drag their hot skin against mine, and fuck their brains out,” a cunning smile glazes his lips as he hesitates, “—though not necessarily in that order.”

Lust and need flutter in my stomach. “I’m not a mindless animal.”

“You’re a Delacroix.” He presses me closer, way too close not to raise eyebrows, his rushed breaths caressing the shell of my ear. “Don’t let your stubborn brother sell you off to Brazil.”

My shoulders stiffen. “What do you mean?”

He clicks his tongue. “They didn’t tell you. Typical.” He rests his cheek against mine, and my already cold blood freezes in my veins. “The king already accepted a proposal in your name.”

A big frown overpowers my crafted mask of indifference. “But…” My gaze darts to Lucas. “Not Lucas, surely.”

“Felipe Pereira,” Sebastian whispers.

Adrenaline raises my voice a few octaves. “You’re mistaken.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger. They act as though it’s a done deal, and I thought they’d at least have told you before making it official.”

I do not trust the compassionate bend of his brow. Knowing him as I do, he’s probably delighted to be the bearer of bad news. With a growl, I push him off of me and scurry over to Lucas who’s still standing on the edge of the dance floor.

“Did you know?” I bark at my friend. “Is that what your meeting was about?”

He takes both my hands in his, his gaze soft and apologetic. “Yes. Victor wants me to escort you to Brazil, Ari.”

“What?” The room starts to spin, the candlelights blurry and hypnotic.

“Victor decided to marry you to my uncle. This is about the Zhaos. They’re sniffing around Europe, and an unbreakable alliance with my family is exactly what your brother needs to keep the peace.”

“But he can’t.” Blood thumps away my denial.

He can. And he will.

Because what the king wants, the king gets, and what a princess needs gets shot to hell.

I sink my nails in my palms and rush past Sebastian to the champagne fountain. If I had run to the exit, the eyes of my fellow vampires would have zeroed-in on me, but predators don’t hone in on women rushing for champagne. I fill a flute to the brim, counting down from twenty, and discreetly discard it on the table.

Just as I’m about to veer in the direction of the bathroom, a familiar, crystal-clear greeting reaches my ear.

“Hey, Ari.”

I spin around and curtsy to my queen. “Your highness.”

The bells in her voice remind me of a different time, when she thought she’d never be queen. Even though she’s got twenty years on me, not one of them show on her teenage-like face, her body as slim as ever, her pixie figure interrupted only by the roundness of her pregnant stomach.

“I’m sorry if my brother is being an ass,” Adele chimes.

I open and close my mouth, debating whether or not to ask her about my engagement. She’s queen, so matters of the sort should be run by her, but I know better than anyone how our fathers and husbands overlook our official ranks whenever it suits them.

“You’re due soon, I heard?”

Her lips thin. “A few weeks at most.”

I check the room, but no one is heading in our direction, and no one lurks on the outskirts of our conversation, so I lean in slightly and whisper, “Is it true? Am I leaving?”

Her forehead creases, but before long, the suspicious look on her face falls. “They told you, then.”

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