Page 45

“Lord, Tessa.” He brushes my hands away with typical Wes-like impatience. “Hold still.”

I hear the swish of a blade and a quick rip of fabric, and the burlap sack loosens. Now I’m the impatient one, and I reach up to yank it free. I blink in the light as everything snaps into focus. I need to see the blue of his eyes and the stubble across his jaw and the few freckles the mask reveals and the—­

My brain stops short.

The man in front of me isn’t Wes.

Can’tbe Wes.

Every ounce of relief shrivels up and dies. Panic swells to fill the space. I try to shove myself back, but my feet are still chained and my body isn’t ready for quick motion.

Regardless, he doesn’t pursue me, just sits crouched in front of me, the length of his black jacket pooling on the floor beside his boots. Reddish-brown hair drifts across his forehead, and I know the pattern of those freckles. The knife hangs loosely in his hand.

I remember Karri’s words from the day of the riots. They’re very handsome, don’t you think?

Prince Corrick.

My mouth is dry, my pulse a steady thrum in my ears. I can’t comprehend how he’d know the right words or have the right voice or why he’d go to the trouble, but this is a trick. A manipulation. It has to be. His eyes aren’t like Wes’s eyes at all. They’re cold, and shuttered, and completely unreadable.

But they’re vivid blue.

When I don’t move, he sheaths the knife and reaches for my ankles.

I shove myself back again, and it’s easier now, my hands more willing to work—but there’s a wall beyond these pillows and I don’t go far. “Don’t you touch me,” I snap.

“I told you to keep your voice down.” His voice isn’t quite like Wes’s now either. There’s a command in his tone that Wes lacked. An edge. An impatience.

He reaches for my ankles again.

“No!” I kick out at him. He seizes the chain easily, taking hold of my feet, but my hands are free, so I lurch forward and punch him right in the face.

I think I genuinely take him by surprise. He swears and rocks back, and it grants me a few feet of freedom, but I don’t get far before he grabs me again, so I swing around with my fist ready. This time I catch him in the stomach, but he deflects.

“Tessa! Enough.” There’s blood on his lip.

Good. I don’t care. I throw a punch right at his crotch.

Direct hit. He doubles over. I scramble for the door.

My feet are still chained and I trip over myself, crashing to the floor. Corrick recovers faster than I’m ready for, and he takes hold of my shoulder and flips me over. I scream and kick at him again.

I hear the door click, but suddenly he’s on top of me, his hips pinning my hips, his dagger—what I hope is his dagger—jutting into my abdomen. I shove at him, but he catches one of my arms and slams it to the ground. I cry out and try to wrench free. He doesn’t give, but my shift does, and I hear fabric tear.

“I told you to be quiet,” he growls, his face terrifyingly close to mine. I jerk back and more fabric tears, revealing my breast.

Something in my abdomen clenches, and my vision goes spotty, as I remember the cold note in his voice when he told the consul, I’m sure you can figure it out. I’m wheezing now, and tears have filled my eyes. “No,” I cry, trying to find leverage to strike at him. “No.”

“Your Highness,” says a male voice, and I freeze. The only thing worse than being assaulted by Corrick would be having it happen in front of an audience. But then the man says, “Are you in need of assistance?”

“Do I look like I’m in need of assistance?” Corrick snaps. “Get out.”

The door clicks closed. Corrick looks down at me from inches away. Blood has smeared across his cheek. His weight still pins me to the floor. My breathing is a wild rush between us.

“You snuck in here to kill me and my brother,” he says to me, and his voice is cold. “If you continue to fight me, the guards will continue to check. Their captain wanted to station a guard inside my quarters. Do you understand me?”

I swallow and shake my head. I don’t understand any of this.

“Everyone in this palace expects the worst of me, Tessa.” When he reaches for the ripped fabric at my shoulder, I flinch and shudder, but he simply pulls the cloth back up to cover any exposed skin. “The only place I can offer you safety is here, in this room.”