The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(29)

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Now that she’d made progress on learning to use a weapon—if she could count the fact that she’d hit something other than the floor as progress—she needed to make a solid backup plan to protect her brother and stop the Wish Granter. Leaving the throwing star on the table, she slipped the iron dagger into her purse and left the arena.

Before she made any more plans or asked more questions, she was going to dip this blade into bloodflower poison and strap it to her hip.

Just in case.





ELEVEN


TEAGUE WATCHED AS the princess strode out of the arena and headed toward the palace.

He hadn’t counted on her resourcefulness or on how quickly she would figure out a way to hurt him. In fact, one look at her ungainly height and abundant curves, and he’d figured she was the least of his worries.

He wasn’t afraid to admit when he was wrong.

Young Thaddeus wasn’t a threat. Not anymore. His blood bound him to the contract they’d signed. He couldn’t lift a finger against Teague.

His sister was another story.

He glared at her, though she couldn’t yet see him. His plans were in place. Ten years of doing as he pleased throughout Súndraille, and when Thad gave up his soul, no one would think to challenge Teague for the throne.

He’d finally have power that had nothing to do with owing someone a wish.

The boy’s sister would either get in line with his plans or he’d find a way to force her to cooperate.

Cold determination filled him while he watched the princess. She moved with purpose, walking quickly past the line of trees that framed the palace road as she approached the garden that hugged the western side of the palace.

He waited until she’d passed, and then fast as a thought, he was behind her.

“Arianna Glavan, we need to come to an understanding.”

She gasped and spun to face him, and he had his hand wrapped around her throat before she could do more than stagger back a step.

He ran the back of his other hand over her cheek and cocked his head to study her eyes.

Terrified.

Angry.

Defiant.

It was the defiance that sparked his interest.

And his fear.

The defiant ones didn’t break when you threatened them. They didn’t cave to bribes or bargain for their own safety.

But every human had a breaking point. He just had to find hers.

She jerked her head, but he held her fast. She was tall, but he could reach her throat, and that was all that mattered.

“Get off our property,” she rasped.

He smiled as he imagined peeling the skin from her bones. It was hard to be defiant when you were in too much pain to do anything but scream. He couldn’t kill her, though, unless he had no other choice. She was Thaddeus’s weakness, and the boy would instantly break the terms of his contract if his sister was harmed. Teague needed to lay the groundwork for his own ascension to the throne before that happened.

Which meant he had to find the key to controlling the princess.

“You’ve been asking questions about me. Do you know what I do to people who pry into my business?” He held her gaze, but she didn’t flinch.

He tried again. “Do you really think that’s the best way to keep your brother safe?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t touch him for nine years and eleven months unless he breaks the terms of your contract. Your magic has rules.”

The bravado in her voice was thin, but there was no mistaking the furious courage in her eyes.

His smile widened. Not herself. Not her brother. Where was the princess’s weakness?

His voice dropped to a whisper filled with every considerable ounce of malice he possessed. “Perhaps I can’t touch young Thaddeus, but he wasn’t the one asking questions with you yesterday, was he?”

Her eyes widened, and the pulse beneath his fingers fluttered.

The friend, then.

Perfect.

“I will only say this once, Princess. Stay out of my affairs. That includes my contract with your brother. Tell your friend—Cleo, isn’t it?—to stay out of them too. If either of you disobeys, I will tear her apart, piece by piece. Do we have an understanding?”

Her lips trembled as she nodded, and he slowly released his grip on her throat.

“A pleasure seeing you again, Princess. Let’s hope for Cleo’s sake that our paths don’t cross for the next nine years and eleven months.”

She rubbed her hands as if they were chilled, and at the last second, he realized she was reaching for something in her wrist bag. Snatching her wrist, he plunged his hand into her bag and pulled out an iron dagger.

The dagger stung his palm, and he dropped it as a welter of blisters rose on his skin. Foolish girl. Did she really think she could stop him with a small bit of iron? Fury ignited cold tendrils of his magic as he glared at her. Slowly he raised his palm to show her the blisters as they bubbled up, hardened, and then sank down to become smooth, unlined skin once more.

“If you want to kill me, my dear, you have to bring something far stronger than a dagger.” He bared his teeth, and she took a step back. “You thought you were dealing with a regular fae, but you were wrong. I am beyond your comprehension. I was alive when this kingdom was founded, and I will be alive to see it fall.”