Page 114 of The Chains You Defy

Or, more likely, my flirtatious behavior had nothing to do with the foreign noble but everything with the dark prince, who appeared right next to us like a storm cloud ready to unleash mighty forces of nature and who snarled at the other male as he hauled me out of Cantarlann’s arms into his own.

“Don’t mind me cutting in. Her next dance is mine.” Dion’s words were accompanied by a more than vicious growl, a clear indication of how frayed his patience was. One of his giant hands splayed possessively over my waist, the other one on my shoulder held so tight as if he were afraid I would be snatched from his grip at any given moment. Through our close contact, I could sense every twitching muscle and every agitated vibration under his skin.

And yes, the fae prince in his entirety was an enormous warning sign, but one I wouldn’t heed. The whole night, he had been merry with a female so beautiful that it hurt every fiber of my soul, and just as I’d stepped outof misery, he’d swooped down on me like an overprotective chaperon. This wouldn’t work, no matter how annoyed he was.

“Whenever I spotted you, you were pretty content dancing with the belle of the ball, and I was fed up sitting at the pariah’s table in the loser’s corner. Especially after someone had taken pity on me, so I could have at least five minutes of fun.” Turning my head, I searched for Cantarlann in the crowd and mouthed a silent apology to him.

He wouldn’t blame me for Dion’s territorial behavior, would he? To my relief, his lips morphed into a bright smile before he rolled his eyes at the fae prince. A giggle tumbled from the tip of my tongue before I could swallow the sound, and the hands on my body tightened even more.

“Eyes on me, godsdammit.” Dion’s snarl was as dark as his hair and as vicious as his grandfather, but if he thought he could frighten me into submission, he was wrong.

Out of principle, I took my sweet time before turning my attention back to him, as if his descent into something darker by the second didn’t faze me at all.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” As I dragged my gaze back to him, I injected a healthy dose of saccharine poison into my voice and hoped he’d understand my message. No matter how tragic his life was here at the High Court, I wouldn’t allow him to control my every breath, not when his orders had nothing to do with my safety, but only with him being a possessive bastard with double standards who could flirt with his lover to his heart’s content.

This wasn’t jealousy. I was simply annoyed at being treated as someone who didn’t even deserve the most basic respect.

Definitely not jealousy.

“Did you have fun dancing? Your girlfriend is stunning.” Vitriol laced my voice, and when Dion bared his teeth—not at me, but at Cantarlann, then at Danartha—I knew I’d struck a nerve.

“She’s not my girlfriend, godsdammit. Never was and never will.” Dion’s face had contorted into a feral mask, his pupils only a thin line, and his upper lip pulled over his canines. His head snapped around once more, and his predatory stare pierced Cantarlann again.

I should de-escalate the unraveling fae prince, but I was too fractured myself to coax him back to reason just yet. “And if you can dance with your not-girlfriend, why can’t I have fun as well?”

“I loathe how that shrewd male leered at you. Still does. As if he plans to swallow you whole and never spit you out again. And the way his scent clings to you makes me want to murder him in the most painful way I can imagine.”

Dion’s nostrils flared, and how close he was to losing his composure was clearly written all over him.

And even though it should have been impossible, his behavior got worse.

As we swayed over the dance floor, he showed his teeth to a male pivoting too close to us and snapped at another so hard that the sound penetrated the air. I didn’t even have an idea what his sin had been—maybe he’d brushed against my shadow?

Whatwere we doing?

The green curtain veiling my sanity slowly lifted, and I became vaguely aware that Galrach was examining us intently. If we didn’t get a grip on ourselves and fast, we would likely steer into a complete catastrophe.

Again, I had to be the voice of reason. Forcing my expression into something softer, I sighed. “Dion. We have to calm down. Your grandfather is watching our every move.”

“Fuck him.”

“Your temper…please rein yourself in.”

“You know what? I'm calling in our bargain. We’re going to have our talk.”

“Which talk?”

“The one you promised me in Amalach.”

“You’ll get your conversation as soon as it’s safe.” Maybe in the far future.

“No Nayana, I’m done waiting. You can’t evade me forever.”

“Alright. When?”

“Now.”

“Now?Are you out of your mind? Just in case you’ve forgotten. We’re in the middle of the dance floor among a battalion of hateful fae racists. And under your dangerous grandfather’s watchful eyes, might I add? Also, you’re acting like a half-crazed feral beast.”