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There wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Not when Altivar had her talismans and proved that they controlled her. Not when he could force her to do and say anything he wanted, required.

She might have scoffed at the fact that she’d become nothing more than a toy to be taken out and played with whenever he wanted, only to be shoved back onto the chest at whim.

The Prince plucked the last flower and rammed it in, making sure that it landed on her curled up lap. “All in good time.”

“Now.” She turned her gaze onto him, forcing all of her hatred, all of the intensity of her small bit of power into it. Her heart strained and she bit back a shudder of pain as her eyes began to burn.

It wasn’t the sort of burn that a fire produced, with tiny embers that burst into colourful light, or the flames that licked wood raw as it crackled and popped in the hearth.

No, this was the force of the sun.

And she felt every inch of it.

Crimson endured the rapid heat that rose to the surface of her skin, the pulse of light as she shifted her magic into fury, her own emotions as wild as the way she felt with how intense she felt it all.

“Fascinating,” Altivar muttered as he squinted his golden eyes at her, not a lick of fear to be found in his overly attractive face. “You wear your powers beautifully, Heartrage.”

Heartrage.

No.

Heartstrings.

The bastard didn’t get to give her her Saint name, no one did. Not even herself, because West had already named her. Unintentionally, but it was the one she chose to take on, wear proudly if she had to have one at all.

No one else had guessed where she’d come from, or if she were a lesser Saint. But there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that Altivar would unveil her and announce her new name to the world once he got the chance.

“Let me see West.” Crimson shoved his title off, not caring about anything but him at the moment. She didn’t care if she died tomorrow, as long as she got to see him one more time.

“Oh, when the day loved the night.” He softly sang down to her as he swept the remainder of petals into her cage, making sure that every single blue leaf followed. “It was as if the world would end.”

“I don’t know what that means.” She seethed and tried to kick the petals back out, only to have him send a scalding look in her direction that indicated he would use her knives again if she didn’t stop now.

She would rather have her free will.

Altivar finished with a final quick. “The moon and stars and midnight sky, all to save the wonderful sun that lit up his life. I guess we’ll just have to see how far Captain Westley Saint goes for you, won’t we?”

“Get out.” She shook with rage.

“No.”

“Getout!”Crimson threw herself at the bars, screaming at him as her blood boiled. There wasn’t anything she could do to calm it, to soothe the nerves that ran rampant through her. Everything hurt beyond comparison. Her head, thrumming to the point of agony. Her body, convulsing with fear at her determined future that she wouldn’t even get the chance to fight for.

Her heart, for the man she loved.

“Might I remind you, that it isn’t you who controls me.” He pointed out, delicately fingering the gut-wrenching blade at his svelte hip. Where the other one was, she didn’t know. “ButIwho controlsyou.”

“I don’t care. I’m bound for the axe no matter what.” She raged like a water’s tide, crashing and thrashing against the pit of despair that was slowly inching over her in waves of darkness and despair.

“Not as soon as you might think.”

Her sight snapped up to him. “What do you mean?”

Altivar dusted the bench off across from her and took a seat, still handling her knife at his side. As if he were afraid that another wrong thing sent in her direction would cause her to rip the steel bars off the cage and be flung at him.

She wanted to.