Rise of Fire (Reign of Shadows #2)(18)

Crying out, I surged and writhed, unable to break free. I just hung there between the soldiers, my tunic ripped down the center, my torso bare except for the binding covering my chest. My naked stomach quivered as cool air washed over me.

For a moment, there was only silence in the hum of darkness.

Everyone’s attention focused solely on me. Their gazes felt like hot coals raking over me, blistering my flesh. Bile surged in the back of my throat.

The air shifted, crackling with a dangerous energy that hadn’t been there before. My nostrils flared, smelling it, the foul intent of their thoughts coiling around me.

Fowler broke the stillness, lunging forward. He swung an arm, smashing his fist into one soldier’s face with a crack of knuckles on bone. He’d been violent before, when desperate, but not like this. Before he was always controlled and precise, but this was wild and savage and brutal. Fowler launched at the other soldier holding me, and he went down like a heavy slab of stone, unmoving. I was suddenly free. “Run!” he shouted.

I lunged only one step before the prince caught me up in his arms. I struggled against the lock of his embrace, assailed with his scent—mint and leather and wind and that hot pulse of adrenaline that coated the back of my throat. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he breathed near my ear.

There was a flurry of movement. Boots shuffled over gasps and cries. Bones crunched. Fowler grunted and I knew they were striking him.

“Stop! Let him go. He’s sick and your men are hurting him!” I struggled, the flaps of my torn tunic flapping open, but I didn’t care in that moment. I could have been stark naked and I would only care about Fowler—helping him, reaching him. Saving him.

“Now that all depends. Are we going to be honest with each other from now on? Are we going to admit who we are? These are dangerous times, and I can’t surround myself with deceivers. I can’t bring anyone into the palace who isn’t who they claim to be.” His hand drifted back over me, his fingers brushing my bare belly and making my skin revolt with goose bumps.

“Rot in hell,” Fowler snarled.

Prince Chasan tsked. His fingers curled at the edges of the binding wrapping my chest, getting a good grip on the fabric. I shuddered at the scrape of his blunt-tipped nails in the valley between my mashed breasts. The steel tip of a knife pricked my skin. I ceased to breathe, not daring to lift my chest even a scant inch for fear that the blade would pierce me.

“What do we have here?” he asked. The binding dipped with the slightest pressure beneath the prince’s knife. “Now why would a boy be wearing something like this? Are you trying to hide something?”

He tugged on the tight fabric concealing my breasts, pressing the knife deeper against the edge of the fabric. I gave a small yelp as some of the threads popped loose. The binding was on the verge of giving way.

“Stop! Let her go!” Fowler spat, lunging toward us.

“There you go! Was honesty so very difficult? She’s a girl . . . and you’re the prince of Relhok. Isn’t it better now without any lies between us?” Prince Chasan’s fingers slipped from my chest binding, leaving it intact. He still kept one hand lightly on my shoulder, though, not completely letting me go.

Fowler staggered to his feet. I felt his presence in front of us. Heat and fury radiated off him. “Touch her, and I will kill you.”

I trembled at the hard bite of resolve in his voice. I didn’t doubt him, and that didn’t bode well. We were in Lagonia. The entire country—or at least what was left of it—would come after us if he so much as ruffled one hair on the prince’s head.

Swords hissed on air and I knew they were drawing on Fowler. His threat would not go unanswered. They couldn’t ignore it. They didn’t care if Fowler was the prince of Relhok or not. They were in Lagonia and these were Lagonians.

“Easy,” Prince Chasan chided, but I wasn’t certain if he was talking to Fowler or his men. His men, I supposed. I heard them lower their swords, and some of the tension ebbed away.

I sidled away from the prince. This time he didn’t stop me. My heart hammered a wild beat in my chest as I took my place at Fowler’s side. I inhaled, smelling the sourness of his feverish skin. He wasn’t doing well. He’d used up whatever strength he had. I didn’t know how he was still standing and talking and fighting, but I didn’t think he could for much longer.

“I understand,” the prince said. “She’s yours. And you have to protect what’s yours. I would do the same.”

I didn’t bother correcting him and telling him that I didn’t belong to anyone. I shivered anew, sensing his scrutiny on me. I tugged the flaps of my shredded shirt back together as best I could, grasping what modesty available, however flimsy.

“Smart of you to disguise her,” Prince Chasan continued. “It couldn’t have been easy for you traveling through Relhok. Not with the bounty on young females. A shame, that. Not sure what your father could be thinking to come up with such a decree. Such a travesty . . . the murder of so many girls.” He clucked his tongue.

Fowler suddenly buckled beside me. I made a grab for him, slipping an arm around his waist. “Are we going to stand here all day, then?” I snapped.

Fowler choked out my name near my ear. “Luna . . . “

I ignored the warning in his voice. His weight sank deeper against me, and I had to wrap both arms around him to keep him from falling. He was still much heavier than I was, and I staggered under the bulk of his body.