Page 32 of Heartbreak Prince

“Ugh.” He shudders.

“You’re an artificient. You had glyph paint with you last night—you used it on the horses’ hooves.”

“Yes, but I left it in the carriage.”

“Of course you did.” I press my fingertips to the bridge of my nose. “Fuck. And we don’t have anywhere near the amount of money we’d need for paint, much less a decent varnish. We’ll have to steal it or continue without it.”

“Continue without it?” He throws off the covers and inspects his feet briefly. Then he leaps out of the bed and paces the room, hands in his hair, wild energy emanating from him. “I can’t go anywhere without my glyphs.”

“Yes, fate forbid your orgasms be less intense,” I say dryly.

He croaks a broken laugh. “You don’t understand.”

“So help me understand. The three glyphs I didn’t recognize—what were they for?”

He looks away, biting his lip.

“Your Highness.” I rise from the bed, squaring my shoulders, wishing I was taller compared to him. “Keeping secrets from me might impact my ability to protect you. Tell me why you feel you can’t go anywhere without your glyphs.”

He closes his eyes and releases a long, strained sigh. “Those three glyphs were my own design. And I had more on my toes. They’re gone, too.”

“Your toes?” I glance down, realizing that I haven’t gotten a good look at his feet until now. During our show at the Pink Lycan, he wore gold slippers, and when he changed there and at the hot spring, I was trying not to ogle him, so I didn’t notice his toes. “You had a podalic glyph set? How did you control them?”

“They were perpetual glyphs,” he says quietly.

“No.” My gaze snaps to his. “Glyphs that remain active all the time? Those are a myth. They’re impossible.”

“They’re not, with the right design. Creating them is an intricate process, much more involved that most artificients are capable of.”

“And you happened to discover the secret.” Disbelief bleeds through my tone.

The prince’s lip curls. “Is that so difficult to believe?”

“Well… you don’t seem to… that is, I never thought…”

He steps toward me, a dominant rage in his eyes. My first instinct is to shove him away, but I let him remain in my space, with a gap barely the width of a fingernail between our bodies.

“You think I’m a philandering fool and a spoiled fuckboy.” His hot breath paints a flush on my cheeks. “There’s nothing more to me, right? Just a pretty face and a body that you can’t help wanting.”

“I don’t want you.” It’s a strained whisper, and I can’t decide if it’s true.

Vawn places his palm against my upper chest. “Your heartbeat says otherwise.”

“My pulse quickens when I’m being threatened. I suggest you back off, or I’ll show you how I deal with threats.”

“What threat, beautiful?” He grins, malicious and reckless. “I would never hurt you, so the only threat I pose is sexual. The only battle here is between you and your lust.”

“You’re so fucking conceited,” I hiss. “Take your hand off my chest. Now.”

He obeys, but he remains where he is, overshadowing me, his heat vibrating so close to my skin I can taste him. My core is warm, alive, swollen with a need I refuse to admit out loud.

“Tell me how you were able to create perpetual glyphs,” I repeat.

“As an artificient, I have more magic in my extremities than other people,” he says. “That’s part of the answer, but not all.”

“And what did your podalic glyphs do? Why are you so desperate to regain them?”

“I should have known they were failing last night.” He turns away, his shoulders bowed. “I started to feel it.”