If so, it was a poor one.
But what more can I expect from a prince? He isn't wrong. I’m a human, so far beneath him that I shouldn’t even be in his bedchambers right now, and he is a dark fae prince who has stolen and trapped me with bargains.
No apology should ever come from his lips.
Faintly, I nod to show that I understand him, but I keep my mouth shut. Part of my new strategy to make it out of here alive.
“You are clean enough,” he decides, drawing back and rising to his feet. He looks down on me, lifting the shirt in his hand. “Dress.”
My cheeks sting with a faint blush as I stand up in the water. Not like he hasn’t seen every speck of my body before—and pointed out all its flaws—but still, after the fight, I ache to hide myself from him.
I’m quick to take the shirt he offers me and tug it over my head. It drapes down past my bottom and grazes over my knees, yet it fits him perfectly when he wears it.
He reaches out his hand for me.
I eye it for a moment before, with a sigh, I rest my hand on his and let him help me out of the tub.
All this hot-and-ice-cold is really starting to make my head spin.
Mind you, I know I should never have slapped him. Even if he was about to take me so harshly, I should have just stuck to the bargain and let him. Maybe I could have asked him not to, but whatever my reaction, to strike a dark fae prince is a death sentence—one I narrowly avoided.
With the water raining down my body still, and my wet feet, the plush grass rug beneath me starts to soak. Nervously, I curl my toes, my gaze cutting to the doors across the bedchambers.
Will he let me leave if I beg enough?
No such luck.
The prince’s arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me into him. Reaching up his hand, he chucks his finger under my chin and forces me to look up at him. He considers the tears brewing in my eyes for a beat before he lowers his face to mine.
His mouth brushes over my lips. “I yearn to destroy you,” he murmurs against me.
My eyes squeeze shut on the tears threatening to spill. “I just want to make it home,” I whisper.
He takes the chance, the parting of my lips, to delve his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like burning alcohol and mint leaves.
Numb against him, I let him deepen the kiss into something slow and hungry. He explores my mouth, tasting every bud on my tongue, and pulls me up against him until my toes are all that’s touching the ground.
A hand slips away from my back and comes up to cup my face. His touch is almost tender, as though he doesn’t want to spook me this time.
It’s working.
As much as I hate myself for it, I start to lean into him, the creases in my eyes smoothing out, and I kiss him back. He moans softly into my mouth as my tongue hesitantly flicks over his.
What other choice do I have?
If I want to survive, I must play his game.
At least now, he’s not hurting me.
His hand is gentle against the small of my back, pressing me to him but not hard enough to ache my spine, and his fingertips dance on my cheek like promised kisses to come.
I know what this means, I want to tell him. But I can’t risk making him snap again. For what I know, he suspects I’m in the dark about the meaning behind dokkalf kisses.
Finally, he draws back to look down at me, his lips glistening from our kiss. I smile something sad up at him.
“I want to go to bed,” I whisper, the truth spilling out of me. “I want to sleep away the bad dreams.”
His eyes burn with pale blue flames, like those in the lanterns. Slowly, he untangles himself from me and takes a step back.