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“We need to discuss where to go from here,” Arlys says, already sounding tired.
“With her in the room?” I ask, scowling.
Arlys sighs. “Yes, with her in the room.”
She perks up at his words, fully awake now. “You know her is really just happy the king gave us permission to investigate the source of the illness. If we don’t find it, we can’t help anyone.” She shrugs and smiles at me.
What the fuck is her deal? Most women cower when I grumble in their vicinity. But even with my anger directed at her, she barely flinches.
There’s no way she isn’t scared of me, so I know this is some kind of game. What game, I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out. Getting inside her head and figuring everything out is going to be my new goal.
She glances at me through dark lashes.
“I know what you’re doing,” I say, my tone low and angry even though some deep part of me likes when she looks at me like that. It makes me remember what she felt like trapped under my much larger body: tiny, her legs spread, her body warm and willing.
No, don’t think about that.
To my surprise, she smiles. “Do you really? I thought I was the only one trying to decide what to have for dinner.”
Dinner? She fucking knows that’s not what this is about.
I feel myself starting to growl. “Why the hell are you so damn unbothered?!” I demand, stalking closer to her. “Do you care about your life at all? Or is everything some big damn joke?” I’m inches away from her face, and she doesn't falter at all. She laughs. She actually laughs in my face, shrugging her shoulders.
“It’s just not that serious for me.”
“Our lives aren’t that serious? Your life isn’t that serious?” I roar. Arlys and Rinan are on me, one on each arm again, pulling me back from her.
“Calm down, Drogo. Fuck! What’s your deal?” Arlys yells.
Princess Tara’s eyes are wide, but not with fear. She looks more surprised than anything. “I’m used to cruelty, if I'm honest with you. Back at my coven, grumbling and shouting at me was child’s play. To be frank, you’re going to have to be a lot meaner to me to compete with them. Not that I want you to.”
Meaner? Damn. I’m treating her like fucking ogre who wants her flesh, and she says I have to be worse than this to get to her. She’s lying. “Do you expect me to believe your people were that cruel to you? You’re their princess. I don’t believe it for a second.”
She shrugs.
Her reaction pisses me off.
“I’m sure they worshiped the ground their bitch princess walked on.”
Rinan’s face is in mine. “Enough.”
But Princess Tara sighs loudly. “Prince Drogo, has it ever occurred to you that being beloved by your people, the way you three are, isn’t the norm for everyone? Love isn’t free. It doesn’t come just because you want it to. Sometimes, you’re just not enough for your people.”
“The powerful princess of the witches isn’t enough for her people?” I practically spit.
She shakes her head and looks so sad I almost believe her. “The Witch Kingdom is as different from the Shifter Kingdom as night and day. Trust me on that.”
“I don’t,” I say without hesitation, and it hurts a little when she doesn’t look surprised. “Your kind is wicked, but not to each other.” Right?
She stares for a minute, nibbles her bottom lip, and says, “My people follow the lead of my mother. You’ve met my mother, right? She’s not exactly… soft.”
Understatement of the year, but surely she’s different with her daughter.
Then I recall how cold her mother was at the wedding, and the fact that she never even bothered to warn her about the wedding. I guess it’s possible her mother is just as cruel with her daughter. Unlikely, but possible.
The thing is, witches use their magic to kill our kind. To kill my brothers. They use their filthy magic to fight dishonorably. In all likelihood, Princess Tara is no different. Hell, she’s their powerful leader. They must worship the ground she walks on after every bloody kill.
Like the way my brothers were killed. On a battlefield. On enemy lands.
