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And she wondered again.Did he … No. That’s not possible.

“It is,” that voice manifested from his lips. Arching a brow, Garrik’s enchanting, silver eyes locked onto hers, and she lost all sense.

“You—”

“Heard your thoughts.” Garrik wolfishly grinned in the candlelight. Smokeshadows whorled around his form, dancing around his boots and drifting across the pelts on the floor.

Indeed, I did. And what a delicious mind you have.

Warmth rushed to her cheeks as burning embers formed in her hands. This whole time. Every thought. Every fleeting moment, each move she schemed before she followed through. The constant voice in her head of warnings, of guidance… In the market. The alley.

Alora gritted her teeth, hearing his voice echo.

‘I dare you.’

‘Clever girl.’

‘Do not do anything foolish.’

He knew. Heknewit all before it happened.Everything.

The chair slid back, toppling backward to the ground. Glass shattered beneath white flames.

“You knew,” Alora snapped, her voice burning like her flames.

Smokeshadows hurled the chair upright behind her. “Sit down,” he growled, but she was only seeing red.

“Is that the command of themightyprinceor theprickin the tavern?” she asked, growling back.

Garrik’s gaze simply shifted to his sword, then, it flickered back to her, freezing her with an incline of his head. He stood, towering over her as shadows danced around his shoulders.

Do not make me ask twice, clever girl.

He stepped forward, the challenge set. But she remembered that very posture, the way he moved toward Jade in the moonlight. She remembered that very look on his face. It was enough.

Alora slumped down into her seat.

Garrik watched her for a moment, watched as her blood boiled and those embers calmed in her palms. “You agreed only a few hours passed to obey my command. Yet, you still entertain visions of ending my life?” The High Prince relaxed back in his chair. A curious expression rippled across his features.

“It will take more than fighting beasts and proclaiming half-hearted remorse for my trust. Especially knowing my mind isn’t safe from you.” She stiffened, fingernails digging into the armrests until a waft of smoke rose, scorching the wood beneath her grasp. At least in here, with the High Prince, she couldrelease her anger through her powers. A new form of release that, before now, she was never allowed to attempt.

Silver eyes descended, critical, raking from the white glow under her fingertips scorching his chair, across her body, and settling on her eyes.

She felt that gentle caress again and snapped, “Stayoutof my mind.”

Garrik wickedly grinned as if he had won the final piece to a game. “I would. But when you are offering every piece for anyone to see… How can one resist?”

Slouching back in her seat, Alora shot him a smile just as sarcastic.See this, prick.And graciously produced a middle finger from the confines of her mind.

Garrik’s resolve broke. A deep laugh rumbled from his chest.

It sounded foreign, and if she wasn’t so mad, maybe she would have enjoyed it but instead rolled her eyes and snapped her gaze away.

He sighed, his shadows producing a new glass, and poured some from his bottle, handing it to her. “Your mind is safe. I rarely invade my Shadow Order’s thoughts. I mainly utilize my power for concealed communication… And the occasional fucking with my enemies when they piss me off.”

The mind-shattering. She’d heard the stories—back when they werejust stories. In all those tales, he was merciless. Ruthless. Sadistic. Bloodthirsty. Taking pleasure in ripping the minds from souls kneeling in front of his sword. And he certainly wasn’t known for the slightest amount of clemency. The High Prince who relaxed in the chair before her didn’t appear to be the same gray-haired demon those stories detailed. Not in his bedchamber, anyway.

She gripped the new glass and focused on the liquid inside with a question burning her mind. Perhaps it was foolish, butthe words escaped her lips before she could convince herself otherwise. “Why did you let me off so easy?”