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“I don’t know what you mean,” I said sweetly.

Kent rolled his eyes. “Liar.”

“So what’s the plan for the after party?” Rankor asked. “Because there’s a stunning little fire elemental across the room that I’m dying to continue this evening with.”

I followed his gaze across the room to a young woman with short brown hair in a black gown with a slit that left very little to the imagination.

She grinned at him from across the hall and wet her lips.

The weight of jealousy landed heavily in my stomach.

Not that I didn’t feel happy for my friend, but it had been a while since someone had looked at me like that. With desire.

The last person to do that had been Clay, when I’d had my legs locked around him and his lips pressed to the curve of my throat in the archives at Hyrax Estate. But then I’d pushed him away, and he’d hated me for it.

And after that I’d called to him in a battle. I’d slept by his side in the infirmary. I’d told him that when I thought I was dying, all I could think about was kissing him again.

Then I started avoiding him for weeks on end.

No one gave mixed signals quite as well as I did.

“I’d say our princess here probably needs to go to bed and skip the after party,” Kent noted, and I turned my face away from them to hide the dark circles under my eyes from their view. It didn’t matter how much product Nessira caked on my face, they simply refused to go away.

“Thea.”

I froze.

I would recognize that small bell-like voice anywhere. Even now, after it had been weeks since I’d heard her.

Without hesitation, I spun on my heels to meet the gaze of my best friend.

Iris had lost weight, looking more like skin and bones than she ever had before.

She’d been the first person to befriend me here and had quickly become more like a sister than a friend.

Iris was famous for wearing her hair in bright, elaborate colors and for donning the most extravagant fashions, but today her dark hair was in curls around her tawny skin.

She wore a simple black gown, still mourning the loss of our friend Lorelai.

Lorelai and Iris had been particularly close. In fact, with more time, they might have even become lovers.

They’d never gotten that chance, though.

She blamed me for Lorelai’s death, and I didn’t hold that against her. If I’d been faster, if I’d done more, maybe Lorelai would still be here, standing right next to us with those bright eyes and sweet smile.

“You’re here,” I blurted, shocked at seeing her.

It had been weeks since Iris and I had even been in the same room.

Rankor and Kent had assured me she just needed some time, but it had hurt to know she had gone to them while avoiding me.

I understood her pain, of course, but I wanted to be there for her, regardless. I wanted to be the one to help her.

I missed her friendship desperately .

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry I’m late. I wasn’t much in the mood for a party.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just wanted to say congratulations. I know you’ve been working hard.”

Her hands twitched uncomfortably at her side, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with them, and I folded mine in front of me. When did it get like this? Things had never been so awkward between us before.

So much had changed.

“Thank you,” I whispered quietly. “It means a lot to me you’re here.”

Her eyes clouded as she dipped her head. For a moment, we both stood there like that - frozen in silence, both unsure how to proceed with the other. Rankor reached up and squeezed my shoulder supportively.

“How are you?” I asked.

She smiled grimly. “I’m doing my best.”

Her words cut through me viscerally, leaving me speechless once more.

Four words with such weight. My beautiful, spritely friend, who danced at every party, who always was ready to joke and tease, who had once been the very embodiment of life, now had to work so hard just to get through her days.

What could I say to her? I’d spent weeks wanting to be with her, wanting to comfort her, and now, when she had finally given me the opportunity, I was hopelessly unaware of how to best proceed.

And that was the moment that the Crown Prince entered the room.

The room seemed to dim, the silence heavy and thick, as if mirroring the aching void within me that his presence only emphasized.

His blonde hair was longer than he normally wore it, curling slightly around his ears and hanging close to his grey eyes.

Now that the weather was cooling, and the days were shorter, it had darkened ever so slightly.

His jacket was dark grey, nearly black, with golden embroidery on the lapels.

I watched as he searched the room for us, eyes landing first on Rankor, then me, then Iris.

His sharp jaw tensed as he assessed the situation and I could just make out the flash of worry on his face before his expression smoothed and he gave a bright smile.

Not everyone could identify the difference between Clay the man and Clay the prince, but I’d always been able to see when he donned that mask.

“You look awful,” he said to Iris, ruffling her hair as he came to stand by her side.

“Gee thanks.” She gave her cousin a soft smile as he pulled her for a quick hug.

“You’re late,” Rankor told Clay, with an edge to his voice that I hadn’t heard him use before with Clay.

Clay, Rankor, Kent, and Iris had grown up together. Despite their longstanding friendship, though, Clay was still their prince and the others never dared to speak against him.

Until tonight, apparently.

“I had some business to attend to,” Clay replied, words clipped and short.

Curiosity flared within me, more intrigued by his irritation than by the words themselves.

What business was there to attend to when the entire court was here in this room, celebrating?

And yet, the question died on my tongue as Kent began passing around drinks to us all, commenting on how happy he was that we were all back together again.

“We’re not,” I exclaimed, which earned me four sets of wide, confused eyes. “We’re not all back together again.”

Iris met my gaze, and for a moment time stopped, until finally she nodded her agreement. “No, we’re not. But us five are all we have left, and Lorelai would want us to be here for each other.”

Wordlessly, I reached over, took her hand in mine and squeezed. When she applied gentle pressure back, my heartbeat fluttered.

It had been weeks without a nightmare about Hyrax .

Clay and I were back in the same room together as friends, nothing more or less.

And Iris was here, squeezing my hand.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like things might be okay.

O nce Emeryn realized the Prince had finally joined the party, she fluttered to my side again, declaring that several wealthy merchants were eager to meet the young prince and future Council member. Something about us being the ‘future of Athenia.’

The way she linked Clay and me together in that phrase made my skin crawl slightly, but I knew better than to challenge her. So, after inviting Iris to join me for breakfast in the morning, I let Emeryn lead us around the room and began mingling and networking as she instructed.

Throughout it all, Clay was the perfect prince—friendly and gracious.

He took charge of most conversations, which suited me just fine.

As the night wore on, though, I couldn’t ignore how sparse our exchanges were with each other.

We moved from merchant to diplomat to courts person, and all the while, he barely acknowledged me, not even on the occasions when I did make small comments to contribute to the conversation.

Until, all too suddenly, he decided he wanted to speak to me.

All night, he must have been waiting for a chance to get me alone, and when the merchant we were talking to excused himself and Emeryn was briefly pulled away, he had it.

The next thing I knew, Clay’s hand gripped mine, and he began tugging me out of the ballroom. I gasped as he pulled me along, his speed not leaving me any chance to protest.

“Come,” he commanded, with a finality that had me tripping over my skirts as he hauled me into a dim, private office and shut the door.

The space was nearly bare—a large oak desk with dragon carvings along the legs, stacks of paper on one side, books, a quill, and a wax seal on the other. A settee beneath the window held a discarded cotton shirt and leather trousers. I didn’t need to look around to know it was Clay’s office.

The scent of cinnamon and ash was a dead giveaway.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I muttered, smoothing my wrinkled skirts before folding my arms across my chest as he quickly rummaged through a drawer.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out a decanter of whiskey and drank deeply. His silence stretched, heavy with tension. I could feel the weight of his stare as he studied me, waiting for me to crack. When I didn’t, he exhaled sharply and set the decanter down with a dull thud .

“I want to know what’s wrong with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not the one who dragged you away from a party to ask vague questions!”

He raised an eyebrow, giving me that familiar, irritating look that always lit my blood on fire with both fury and something else I’d rather leave unnamed. “Dimitri tells me you’ve been spending more nights at Hyrax Estate than in your suite at the palace.”

Of course I had. I was studying Hyrax and my family’s history. I was avoiding sleep by doing anything I could to identify what Hyrax wanted from me. I couldn’t very well say any of that to Clay, though. So, I just shrugged. “Didn’t know there was a problem with me staying in my own home.”

He had been the first one to show me Hyrax Estate, the sprawling gothic mansion south of the palace. As the last descendant of Hyrax, the property was mine, along with the archives inside it, a collection of family heirlooms, and Hyrax’s Bident—a weapon made from the bones of some ancient beast.

“And Rankor tells me you haven’t been sleeping,” he continued.

I was going to have to speak to him and Dimitri both about keeping their observations to themselves. “I don’t see how that’s anyone’s business but my own.”

Clay’s expression softened, his voice dropping. “I’m serious, Thea.”

His eyes held that rare look of concern—the one that wasn’t from the prince, but the man behind him. The man who cared about me, perhaps too much.

I knew I should pull away, to harden myself against him, but part of me didn’t want to.

“As am I,” I replied, my voice sharp.

Clay sighed and stepped forward, close enough that I felt the heat of his anger mixed with something more. I could feel my pulse quicken, half of me wanting to retreat, the other half desperately wanting to close the space between us.

“Do you think I’m not acutely aware of you?

” he murmured, his voice low. “What you pulled in the arena today was reckless, lazy even. I’ve seen you fight in far worse conditions, and you were brilliant then.

Natural. But today? Crawling on the ground, running from attackers?

You’re avoiding the castle, avoiding Iris, avoiding me.

You’re not sleeping and you’re not talking.

I want to know why. I want to know what you’ve been keeping from me. ”

A shiver passed through me, betraying the effect he had on me. But I couldn’t afford to let my walls crumble. If Clay knew the truth, it wouldn’t be long before his father knew. And if the Dragon knew, I’d be as good as dead.

I forced a steadying breath, preparing to say what I knew would end this conversation before it went any further. “Your concern is touching, Your Grace.”

His frown deepened. “Excuse me?”

“I just hadn’t expected you to be so concerned with Council affairs,” I replied, coldly polite. “I assure you, I’ll take better care of my health. And please, pass along my regards to the other Council members when you have this same talk with them.”

His eyes flared a dangerous gold, a shade that rarely showed, but practically blazed in that moment. “Thea.”

“Clay. I just assumed this conversation was because of my role on the Council. Otherwise, we have no reason to discuss my well-being alone in a locked room.” I dropped my voice with a hint of warning.

“You are the Crown Prince, and I am a future Council member. We are nothing more than that to each other. We cannot be anything more than that.”

He knew as well as I did that our relationship went beyond what society would allow. We were walking a fine line, and if things went any further, the Dragon would marry me off to some noble with a title—and I’d be dead the second I’d produced an heir.

“And here I thought we were friends,” Clay said, drawing out the words, an eyebrow raised in mockery.

“Did you now?”

“No.” His voice dropped to a growl as he stepped closer, his eyes glinting. He lifted a hand, his fingers grazing from the base of my throat down to where the Mark of Hades lay painted on my skin. “I rarely think about fucking my friends as often as I imagine laying with you. ”

“You should watch what you say, Your Grace,” I warned, though it came out in a breathless whisper.

He smirked, noticing the way my breath caught. “I thought you weren’t playing games, Miss Moore? Are you really going to pretend you don’t want me to lay you across this desk?”

He was taunting me, trying to draw me out, to break through the defenses I’d put up against everyone. And the worst part? It was working. I knew what he was doing, and yet the low, sensual edge in his voice, the way his gaze swept over me, possessive and unrestrained, made my resolve tremble.

We stood there, locked in place, pressed together, breathing each other’s air. It would only take a tilt of my head, and his lips would be on mine. The longer he stood there, the more I felt his desire pressing against me, the more my defenses faded.

“Well.” I cleared my throat, breaking the spell. “I suppose I should get to my suite since you’re so concerned about my rest.”

His eyes lingered on my lips, then traveled slowly down my body.

He exhaled sharply, as if forcing himself to let go.

Like he wanted to close the distance between us just as badly as I did.

But instead, he stepped back, turning to face his desk.

Without him, the space was colder, emptier, and I released an audible sigh.

“Very well,” he replied gruffly, refusing to look at me as I practically fled from the room.