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“Enjoying your time with the prisoners, Luke?” he teases.

“As much as a royal can, I guess. At least they don’t smell like pig shit anymore,” I joke, trying to change the subject.

“Mhm.” He glances at the prisoners and back at me. “Shall we see if we can get them to summon their magic?”

“Why don’t you do the honors?” I flash him a toothy grin and nod in their direction.

He sighs loudly, shooting me a playful yet annoyed look, and walks forward toward the prisoners. “Everyone listen up!” Kylo shouts, and all activity ceases as eyes turn toward him. “Who here doesn’t have magic?” Eleven prisoners raise their hands. “Alright, keep practicing. The rest, come with me.”

Kylo returns with the magic-wielding prisoners. “Who here has never used their magic?” he asks.

Sheraises her hand and another prisoner, a male. “Alright, you two are with Prince Lukene. He will explain how to summon your magic. You other prisoners, follow me. Let’s see the extent of your magic.” Kylo smirks at me, satisfied, and walks off with the others.

Bastard. I glare at him, then sigh, running a hand through my tousled hair. I turn to the short, red-haired man and then to her. “What are your names?” The male prisoner answers immediately. “Jaime… s-sir… Prince… Your Highness,” the man stammers.

Double burning hells, he’s trembling like a leaf in the wind. How did he win his fight in the Hollows? “Prince. Just call me Prince,” I say, then turn to her. “And you? What do they call you?”

“7296,” she replies dryly, while rolling her bottom lip between her thumb and pointer finger.

Pressing my hands to my temples, I scrunch my face, trying to keep my patience. “I don’t have time for games, prisoner. What are you called?”

“7296…Prince. That was the prisoner number given to me when I got to the Hollows. I have been called that for the last six years.” She holds out her arm, showing me the numbers tattooed on her wrist.

Six years… hells, that must be how long she was in the Hollows. “You aren’t in the Hollows anymore. What is your name, prisoner. Now. I am running out of patience,” I huff, irritation flaring.

“Reign.”

I clap her on the shoulder, and I can feel her recoil from my touch—like she is repulsed by me. “See that wasn’t so hard now was itReign?” I smirk, hoping it will piss her off. She rolls her eyes at me. Oh, gods and goddesses, this is either going to be fun, or a complete disaster.

“Close your eyes,” I say, trying to prepare them to access their magic.

Jaime immediately obeys; however, Reign’s eyes linger on me for a second before she finally complies. “Feel inside for your magic. It is there—like a burning feeling or a coldness. It’s a different feeling for everybody. It’s a sensation in your core that’s odd—feels separate from the rest of you. Feel for it and grab it. Once you do, you’ll feel it all over. Let it run over you like water, filling every space of you, and direct it to your palm.”

Almost instantly, Jaime had water in his hand. “Very good. Now, join Captain Kylo and the others. Practice and see what you can do. The first summoning is always the hardest.”

I step in front of Reign. Her eyes are still closed. She has her hands out in front of her, palms up. I slowly take in her appearance, looking at her from head to toe and slowly back up stopping on her face. She has her long, pale lavender hair tied back off her face. Her thick, long black lashes are fluttering as she concentrates. She has the faintest freckles splattered on her nose. My eyes drop to her lips which are scowling. I look back to her eyes and find that they’re now blazing, burning a hole through mine.

“Like what you see… Prince?” she seethes.

“Meh, not my type.” I shrug. She immediately squints her eyes, my words clearly stoking her internal fire. I love it. “So… about that magic.”

“I can’t summon it,” she sighs in annoyance.

“You need to try harder, prisoner,” I insist. Gods and goddesses, she can be irritating.

“I am!” she snaps, her voice rising.

“Emotions can bring it out. It will be laced in the strong feelings you have. How do you feel?”

“Like I want to stab you!” she exclaims. Her voice is full of irritation and defiance. She is recklessly bold. Who in their right mind tells a prince they want to stab them? I want to smile, but I remember how hard it was to summon my first time. But I have an idea.

“You do realize I amyourPrince, right?” I stand to my fullest height in front of her very small frame, looking down at her as I cross my arms.

“You may be the Prince of Umbrahdor, but you will never bemyanything.”

“Oh Reckless, don’t say those words. You are going to hurt my feelings. Besides, you don’t mean that. I’m sure you dream about beingmyeverything. Most women do.” I raise one corner of my mouth into a side smile. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Prince,” she grunts out through gritted teeth.