Page 17 of Demonic Prince

Rook cocks his head. “Would they say why a thief stole bread to feed his family, or why a woman killed the man who raped her?”

It’s not what I expected him to say. “You assume my innocence.”

He tugs Bolt to a stop and turns to me. “Then confess.” He stares at me without a trace of emotion touching his face.

I chill my words on ice. “No, thank you.”

Without a word, he clicks his tongue and urges his horse onward.

Rook doesn’t care that I burned an entire village to the ground. Whatever he wants from me now, it’s more important than my past sins. This magical lock better be guarding some damn fine treasure.

Silence fills the space between us.

We keep plodding though the endless forest, when we could be flying over everything on our way to the Silver Sea. Obviously, there’s no point in trying to convince Rook that I should shift into a dragon and bring him there.

To be fair, I wouldn’t bring him anywhere. I might bite off his head instead.

My stomach grumbles. “I’m hungry.”

“I thought you were cold.”

I glare at the back of his head. “Coldandhungry.”

He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a swear. “Will you be cold and hungry the whole way?”

“If you don’t take care of me.”

He reins in Bolt and reaches into a saddlebag. “Here.” He tosses a wedge of cheese at me, which I fumble to catch.

“More cheese?”

“It’s good cheese.”

With rope chafing my wrists, I cram the cheese into my mouth. I dream of sinking my teeth into wild venison instead.

He rummages in another saddlebag. “Wait.”

“For what?”

“Clothes,” he says. “Get down.”

“My hands are tied. Help me down.”

He grips my waist. I hook my arms over his head, bracing myself against his shoulders, as he lifts me from the saddle. When my feet touch the ground, he’s still holding me. Every callus on his fingers brands my skin. My nipples tighten from more than the cold. I lean against him and erase the distance between us.

Rook stares down at me. “What the hell are you doing?” He says it calmly enough, but his ember eyes burn with fire.

“Seducing you,” I murmur, “but with subtlety.”

He laughs. It hums through my chest. “This is your idea of subtlety?”

“Believe me, I can be a lot moresubtlethan this.”

He’s tall enough that I have to stand on my toes to bring my mouth to his ear. My lips brush his skin.

I breathe in his amber-and-pine scent. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

“Pyrah.” His voice is dark and velvety. Like a warning.

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