As I wake, Devlan wraps his arm around my stomach, pulling my back to his chest. His lips brush the back of my neck, and he tenderly kisses just below my hairline. “Morning.”
My eyes snap open in alarm, and I roll over in his arms to meet his eyes. “Morning?”
His lips twitch into a smile. “Very early morning.” Then his lips touch mine, gently caressing my mouth with a passionate kiss. My chest rises, pressing against his as I inhale deeply, breathing him in. His hand glides along my hip before he pulls away. “I need to get you back.”
I wrap my leg around his hip, halting him and loving the feel of his skin against mine. “Nay.”
He presses his forehead to mine and exhales heavily. His eyes close. “Whatever you wish, I won’t be able to deny you.” His hand slides up the bare skin of my thigh. I shiver. “But I need to take you back now, before I can never let you go again.”
I tense at the thought of not being in his arms, but I know what I have to do. Our mission comes first. My father—everyone is depending on us. I nod against his head. “I’ll get dressed.” I sit up and get to my feet, then glance around, searching for my dress.
Devlan puts his hands behind his head and stares up at me. His lips curve into a bright smile, dimples along his cheeks. “But please, do take your time.”
I kick his leg, but smile. “Help me find my most likely mutilated dress, seeing as you couldn’t figure out how to get me out of it.”
He shrugs against the ground, his arms flex. “You said hurry.” He grunts as he sits up and tosses my dress from behind him. “I always do as my princess commands.”
“Devlan,” I warn. “You especially cannot call me that now.”
“Right.” His features mold into a serious expression, but I can still see the trace of a smile lingering. He stands and gathers his clothes.
My lips stretch into an aching smile. I try to hide my face from his as I dress and strap my sheath to my thigh. My mind continually replays the moments with him—his lips on mine, his hands on my body—and heat rushes through me.
All I want is to climb back onto the canvas with him and forget everything that plagues me, but I know I can’t. I have a mission to complete. At the very least, we were together once before we risk our lives. Friday, I could die. We all could. Only, I wish I’d made my feelings for him clear sooner, had admitted them to myself before now.
“Maybe we should wait in the stable for first light,” he says. “You could pass it off as an early ride.”
I look over my rumpled dress. “Yes. I always wear the same gown two days in a row. And torn, at that.” I hold out the split hem.
His brow furrows. “Let’s go, then.”
As I step in front of him, he takes my hand and runs his fingers over the purple skin along my wrist. I look into his pale eyes. “I handled it,” I say. “And I will deal with it today. We have to keep on as if nothing has changed.” I level a look at him. “This is the mission.”
He nods once, his lips a hard line. “He just better pray I calm down before the match on Friday.” He kisses the inside of my wrist, letting his threat linger in the air as we disappear into the tunnel.
The early-morning chill seeps in through the stone walls, and Devlan slides his hand into mine as we make our way up the steps toward the top level of the castle.
Before we reach the head of the tunnel, I turn and face him. “I should go to my chamber alone.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not letting you out of my—”
I press my finger to his mouth. “I’m going on my own. I can’t chance that Sebastian, or one of the other courtiers, will come stumbling along from the party and see us together.”
His face winces into a pained expression. “Let me contact Xander first.”
“Devlan. I promise I’ll be fine. I’ve roamed the castle by myself before.”
His eyebrows pull together. “Contact me when you get to your room.”
I nod and turn to go, but he tugs my skirt, pulling me back. He cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him, pressing his lips to mine. I kiss him with purpose, and his lips achingly work against mine. As I break the kiss, I refuse to meet his eyes. I turn and open the door, then slip into the hallway. I don’t want the worried look I know he now wears to linger with me all day until I see him again.
When I reach the open hall, I look at the tournament field. It’s dark, and torches burn low, displaying the leftover party debris. The servants will soon be up to clear it away before the morning comes.
Dashing down the corridor to my room, I come to a complete halt when I see Xander outside my door. His head jerks my way, and he advances on me quickly.
“Princess, the prince was looking for you.” Worry narrows his eyes. “I told him that you weren’t feeling well, and had requested to be left alone. I offered to keep guard over you for the rest of the night.”
I relax my stiff shoulders. “Thank you, Xander.” His face is too drawn for that to be all, though. “What else?”
“I fear this is not the only night you’ll be watched.” He lowers his voice. “The prince is very suspicious. Starting tomorrow, two guards will be stationed with you at all times. And we’re to swap shifts outside your chamber during the night.”
“Maybe it was a request after he had too much to drink,” I say. “I’ll speak with him.”
“He was sober when I last saw him.”
My brow creases. “I’ll still talk with him.” He nods, and I go into my room.
Sebastian has gone too far. This is dangerous. My mission depends heavily on his trust in me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Somehow, I must get that trust back. My stomach sinks, knowing just how difficult that will be after the way we parted last.
The stadium is full of spectators. I wait for Sebastian to join me in the risers. He didn’t act suspicious at breakfast, but he also didn’t acknowledge his actions of the night before.
I saw him glance at my lips more than once, or maybe it was simply paranoia making me feel the weight of his stare. I had to grip my dress to stop myself from covering the guilty offenders. I’m his betrothed, but my heart doesn’t belong to him. I told him from the start that my feelings for him would never be romantic. I can’t help that his pride will not accept this. It’s not guilt I feel for breaking any vow to him, but rather worry that I may have botched the mission, that I’ve failed to protect him.
Before I entered the tournament area, I sent word to Devlan through Xander. Using our communicators feels unwise. We’re so close; there’s no room for error. Xander made the case for me that, now I’m being watching more closely, I won’t be able to meet him tonight, or the following two nights we have left before the ceremony. It tore at my heart to do so, but it’s just too dangerous. I know Devlan will understand once he hears the circumstances. It was he that night in the meadow, as we watched Fallon and Xander embrace, who conveyed his feelings on love and duty.
Duty comes first. Love is a distraction, and one that could endanger all involved. I trust that he’ll remember his words now.
The knights gather on horseback, meeting in the center of the field before the announcer introduces the next event. Sebastian sits down next to me, and my heart nearly leaps from my chest at his sudden arrival.
“I didn’t see you coming up the stands.” I smile and nod toward the field. “This is going to be exciting.” I can’t believe that I’m the one expected to make amends, but I have no choice. I at least have to restore our friendship, as I must convince him to take me to King Hart before our ceremony. I swallow my pride.
He takes my hand in his and his fingers squeeze mine painfully. I try to jerk out of his grip, but he pulls me closer to his side. “You will not get back into my good graces with sweet words, Zara.”
Attempting to hide a scene from the spectators around us, I lean into him and whisper, “What then, my lord, will forgive my error?” I grind out the words, and then dig my nail into the top of his hand.
He releases his hold on me with a sharp laugh. “Certainly not words.” He looks at me, and his golden eyes darken as his face hardens. “But, I suppose it will make for a splendid wedding night to have you prove your apology then.”
My mouth falls open, but I hold my tongue from spilling the insults ready on it. It’s as if he’s forgotten his actions of last night completely, believing his own makings of the events. I eye him curiously, trying to see a spark of recognition behind the angry gaze.
It’s not there. Only the cold and callous air of a king.
Turning to face the tournament field, I lay my hand in my lap and straighten my back. After a moment, when he realizes he won’t get a rise out of me, he does the same.
I loathe myself, wishing I could come clean and simply tell him everything, and that he’d know the right thing to do about King Hart. All this manipulation is eating my soul. I saw the hate in his eyes—the anger—last night in the garden, and I see it now. He’s walking a fine line between becoming the king his father raised him to be, and the leader I know he can be.
I’ve seen the compassion in his eyes before. Like the first day he took me to the meadow, and when he helped the pregnant woman. The light is there. I can almost reach out and feel the tension surrounding him—his inner battle.
I wish my head and my heart would quit combating each other. I know my mission. I know what I’ve vowed to the Rebels and to myself. But there is a heaviness weighing on my heart, telling me I’m missing something. If I falter now, all could be lost.
The war against Outside. The Taken. My father.
Everything.
I know that Devlan would tell me to hold strong, that this is the sure course. Only, I’ve seen the question in Devlan’s eyes, each of the times he’s trained me, and when he offered to take my place to take on Hart. Did he doubt me so then? Does he still have doubt?
I feel Devlan’s scar beneath my fingers, and envision the sneer on Sebastian’s face as he inflicted it, as he gave in to Hart’s commands.
What’s right? What am I supposed to do?
I sink into my chair, feeling as if my mind is weighing me down. I imagine Devlan’s arms wrapped around me, sheltering me from my own thoughts. Pressing my palm over the communicator in my bodice, I try to feel the strength that Devlan claims he sees in me.