5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
It takes nearly an hour of walking through the dense, snowy woods—thigh throbbing where a rebel rammed his staff—before the princess stirs on my shoulder.
Fucking finally.
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” I snarl before tossing her onto the ground. She sinks into the thick snow easily, and a dark part of me wishes it were unforgiving ice beneath her.
“What—what is the meaning of this?” she stammers, holding up her bound hands.
“You tell me.” I crouch to her level, glaring. One of my eyes is swollen, so I’m not certain how effective it is. “Who attacked us?”
“I don’t know? It looked like Rebellion.” No prickles. “Untie me immediately.”
“Did you know about the attack?”
She looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. Skies, she’s a great actress—her father trained her well.
“This is ridiculous,” she grits out. Her pale face pinches with anger. “Untie me right now.”
The nerve of this woman. She must be working with the Rebellion. No wonder she isn’t afraid of me.
I’m going to rectify that very quickly.
“Not until you answer my questions. Did. You. Know. About. The. Attack?” I bring my face closer to hers, and she shivers, fear flickering through her eyes. Good. She should be terrified. She should be frantically answering my questions and—
The princess rears her head back and bashes her forehead into my nose. A muted crack, and pain erupts across my face.
Holy Skies. She hits me with enough force that I fall backward, hand stemming the flow of blood. Before I can blink, she’s on her feet and wobbling away.
I’ve never been so stunned. Did I fall asleep in the carriage, and this entire ordeal is some ridiculous dream? Because there is no way that wisp of a healer princess made me bleed.
With a low growl, I bolt off the ground. She doesn’t make it far. I grab a fistful of hair and yank her back. Mayah crashes to the ground, and I climb over her, pinning her down with my weight.
“Get off me!” she shouts, slamming her bound fists against my chest. “I’m the princess of fucking Tundrayn!”
I grab her wrists, forcing them over her head.
“Out here,” I snarl into her face, “you are the princess of nothing. Answer my questions, and maybe I’ll let you go.”
I shift atop her, bracing an arm beside her head, trying to ignore the way her breasts feel flattened against my chest. How small she is. Her face drains of color, the faint smattering of freckles stark against her pale skin. When her cold blue gaze meets mine, for once, it’s brimming with terror.
A shard of guilt scrapes against my conscience—I know what she’s afraid of. I shove the guilt aside. The sooner she answers my questions, the sooner I can let her up.
When she still doesn’t speak, I growl, “I lost every single man in my command today. And once the attackers realized you were the princess, they protected you. I’m not feeling very charitable. Do not test me.”
“Fine.” Her voice is surprisingly steady despite her evident fear. “I’ll answer your questions.”
“Did you know about the attack?”
“No.” Truth.
“Who attacked us?”
“I don’t know. I think it was the Rebellion.” Truth.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Probably because they’re actively engaged in a war against both our kingdoms?” Snarky, but truth.
I scan her face. She isn’t lying, but something still doesn’t make sense.
“Why didn’t the rebels harm you?”
“I imagine they were preoccupied with your thunder tantrum.” A low growl builds in my chest. Storm clouds gather in response to my anger, and the sky darkens.
“When you fainted, they shielded you. Why?”
Thunder rumbles overhead with promise.
“I—I don’t know!” she stutters, fearful eyes glued to the clouds. “Maybe they wanted to ransom me.”
She’s still telling the truth. Am I asking the wrong questions?
“Why did you faint?” I try. Her eyes snap to mine.
“What princess wouldn’t faint in the midst of battle? They had tidesdamned bombs!” Clever girl. Evading the question.
“That’s not what I asked. Why did you faint?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
I summon another boom of thunder, and the princess whimpers. She averts her gaze, cheeks reddening.
“I’m afraid of thunderstorms,” she finally whispers.
My brows furrow. Truth.
“Why?”
“It’s none of your business!” she snaps. “I’m not answering any more questions. Kill me if you must.”
My mind reels. She hasn’t lied once. She didn’t know about the Rebellion attack, isn’t working with them, and she’s terrified of my power.
I loosen my grip, and she winces. Her wrists are red and chafed beneath the edges of the rope.
Fuck. I’ve hurt her. And apparently for no reason.
Tearing my hands away, I clamber off. I help her sit up, but she twists out of my grasp as soon as she’s upright.
Her eyes widen when I unsheathe a dagger from my belt, and she tries to scoot away. The shard of guilt returns, sharper this time, digging beneath my ribs. Wordlessly, I grab her arms and slice through the rope binding her wrists.
As soon as she’s free, her fingers reach for her necklace, a simple teardrop pendant, and her shoulders sag with relief when she touches it.
Her gaze burns into me, but I can’t stop staring at her bruised wrists.
Skies, I didn’t realize I’d tied the rope that tightly.
The darkening welts are stark against her pale skin.
I open my mouth, ready to apologize, but the words die on my tongue.
Sorry, I tied you up. I thought you were working with the Rebellion and conspired against me doesn’t seem right. Or enough.
Instead, I rise and offer a hand. It’s no surprise when she ignores it, standing on shaky legs like a newborn fawn.
“We need to decide what to do next.”
She glares at me, full lips turned down in a frightful scowl. All right, an apology is definitely warranted. I open my mouth—
—and a loud crack echoes in the forest behind me. I whirl, sword halfway unsheathed. Could more rebels have found us already?
A beat.
Nothing happens. No other energy signatures in the vicinity.
Brows furrowed, I sheathe my sword and turn back—
—right into Mayah’s waiting palm. She slaps me across the face so hard, my head twists sideways.
Jabbing a finger into my chest, she hisses, “You will not touch me again.”
I’m completely frozen, stunned into silence by this woman who has somehow managed to land a second blow on me in less than thirty minutes. I scan her face, lingering on her ferocious pout and blazing eyes.
Skies, she’s gorgeous—even more so when she’s pissed.
My eyes drop to her finger, still jammed into my chest.
My cock twitches.
I inhale deeply, forcing frigid air into my lungs in an attempt to tamp down on the irrational desire coursing through me. I nod slowly and take a half-step back. I need to create distance between us before I have her on her back again for entirely different reasons.
“After you.” I gesture to the snowcapped trees behind me.
Her brows knit together. “Where?”
“To investigate that sound.”