Chapter 30 #4
“Let your father rest, girl. You are acting like a child. It really is unbecoming. What is all this nonsense of being sold? You are a princess of Osaria taking part in a tradition that stretches back for generations. You are more fortunate than every girl in the empire combined. Have some dignity.” She pushed me towards Drake, hurrying to guide my father away and clearly preferring to separate us than halt the count from having more time with me.
I shared a look with my attendant Zira who was waiting by the door which led back into the palace, but she was stolen away by Magdor as she urged my father back inside, leaving us alone with a couple of the guards.
I faced the final suitor and Drake prowled towards me like a predator stalking its prey, his broad shoulders pressed back and powerful frame dwarfing me.
I swallowed thickly as he approached. There was something about the way he moved, a confident swagger that graced his limbs and a fluidity to his movements which made him seem ready for a fight at all times.
It was unnerving and even a little exhilarating.
This man knew something of adventure which I yearned to understand too.
He had lived during the years of his life while I had only ever been a songbird with clipped wings, cursed to stare out at the sky from the confines of my cage.
He moved so close to me that I almost backed up, stopping a mere hairsbreadth away from his chest brushing against mine.
I should have moved, increased the distance, done something to deny the presumptuous behaviour he was displaying and yet a dangerous curiosity rooted my feet in place.
I may not have been a match for the strength of his body, but I was more than a match for the strength of his soul, and I wouldn’t be forced to back down.
I tipped my chin up to look him dead in the eye, the darkness of his gaze seeming even more feral up close, like he was nothing but a pit of secrets and sin, just waiting to swallow me whole.
He smelled like the richness of the desert and something fresh, crisp, like pure damned freedom wrapped around something so undeniably male that it made my mouth dry out.
“Hello again, wife,” he said with a dark smile which showed off his dimples and made my pulse quicken.
“I'm not your wife yet,” I growled, my brows raising at the balls on this prick as his gaze trailed over my face and caught on my mouth.
He dipped his head, my attention falling to his lips automatically as he drew so close he was inhaling my air, and for a single, insane moment I thought he was going to steal a kiss from me.
I should have drawn back, pushed him away, something, anything other than draw in a sharp breath which parted my lips and allowed me to taste his words as he hesitated there, just one insane decision away from kissing me.
“Yes, you are,” he said in a dark and simple promise, the force of his claim so solid and undeniable that I just blinked at him in surprise, failing to so much as respond before he straightened and walked away.
Not even staying for the whole minute he’d been gifted in my company, leaving me frozen, in his wake.
I was unsure if the heat in my blood and my hammering heart was due to rage or desire for that arrogant, brazen, cocksure arsehole, but either way, I was mad. Utterly, infuriatingly, irrevocably, mad .
Who the hell did that count think he was?
I turned after him, regaining my senses and refusing to let him get the last word over me like that. I wasn’t going to let him rattle me. I had nothing to lose, so to hell with him.
“I shall choose to slit my throat before I marry you, Nazari,” I called and he paused in the entranceway to the palace, but he didn’t turn back.
I felt the guards fighting not to look at me, keeping their gazes riveted somewhere over my head, but they could hear me alright. “The throne will never be yours.”
Drake finally looked back at me, and I found him grinning like a cad, my words only seeming to spark his intrigue.
“At least wait until after the wedding night to kill yourself, love,” he said and my lips parted at the casual way he spoke to me, the high-born lilt to his voice seeming to fall away and leaving something rougher and all the more intriguing in its wake.
“I assure you, you won’t want to miss out on that.
And once I have you panting my name in my arms and feeling more sated than in any other moment of your life, you can go ahead and follow through on that threat. At least then you’ll die happy.”
He strolled away with a laugh carrying back to me as I just stood there with my lips parted in shock and my cheeks heating with the words he’d dared speak to me.
He disappeared inside, leaving me scorching beneath the midday sun as I fought the desire to chase after him and put him in his damn place.
How dare he speak to me like that? I was the princess of Osaria, and I would not be claimed by any man – especially not one who worked to fluster me and seemed to have no respect for rules or propriety.
The next time I saw him, I’d be ready for him though, and he might just find out that this delicate flower he sought to claim had thorns of her own.