The Stone Prince

FOURTEEN

PERCEN DE LOCKE GRINNED slowly.

At last, after a seemingly endless search, he had found Jorlan.

He had found Jorlan!

Of course, his brother was no longer stone, but flesh and blood. Percen’s first reaction to that fact was fury, but as he watched Jorlan interact with the mortal women, that anger melted away and his smile grew. Jorlan was free, but only for a time. The spell had not yet been broken completely. Its shackles were still wrapped tightly around his brother. How wondrous! Jorlan must be desperate for his savior’s love, knowing his deadline fast approached.

Percen wanted to dance upon the grassy plain, but could not, for his twisted leg prevented such an action. He wanted to laugh and shout his success to the world, but could not, for he wished to keep his identity hidden.

At least for now.

Somehow, though, Jorlan had already sensed him. The cursed warrior was now guarded, searching. In fact, he strode about the house, determined to discover who watched him. He passed Percen once, even a second time, but never detected the truth. Percen could not contain a small chuckle.

You can’t catch me, he inwardly sang, imitating the happy little boys he’d heard playing earlier that day. So carefree those children had appeared, he’d cast a spell of understanding just to learn their words. Those words now echoed smugly in his mind. You can’t catch me. You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man.

Oh, what a fun game. He himself had never played games as a child. Nay, there had always been a spell to learn, an incantation to perform. There had always been punishments to endure and sorcerers to entertain. A future high priest must be properly groomed in all facets of life. His tutor’s stern voice resonated in his head — a voice that still caused him to shudder with horror.

Nay, no games for him.

His half brother had led such a charmed life, pampered by the king and all of his servants, coddled by his mother, adored by anything female. Jorlan knew nothing of pain and suffering. Nothing! He knew nothing of craving something with every ounce of his being, yet being unable to acquire it.

But I will teach him, Percen thought darkly. Aye, ’tis past time I taught him.

His brother rounded a corner and returned to the three mortal women. A frown still marred the perfect warrior’s perfect lips. Which of the three women was responsible for breaking the curse? Percen wondered, for he would begin Jorlan’s punishment with her. He immediately eyed the youngest one. With her glorious red hair and big brown eyes, she was beyond beautiful, like a finely carved sculpture. The next woman was old enough to be Jorlan’s mother, and the last was too tall and plain. Percen meant to study each one, to gauge their reactions to Jorlan and Jorlan’s reaction to them, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from returning to the young beauty. She was the kind of woman he had always longed to possess. To hold in his arms, to love and cherish.

But her kind never desired him in return.

Even knowing that, need began to churn inside him. Hot, driving need that, for a moment, surpassed and masked his sole reason for being there. He watched her smooth a tendril of hair from her brow. His blood became enflamed. His body hardened. Though her every move was like living passion, there was something almost vulnerable about her. Something sad. Something that pulled at his deepest yearnings.

The girl glanced around her, above her, below her, as if she could sense his scrutiny. Unexpectedly, her gaze connected with his. Blue to brown. Desire to confusion. He was nearly forced to his knees with the intensity of longing that swept through him. She didn’t look away. She held his stare and slowly offered him a smile.

He sucked in a breath. Could she see him?

Nay, nay she could not, for her shoulders sagged slightly, and her smile faded. Her gaze moved to the railing beside him.

Was she Jorlan’s lover? Had Jorlan touched her, planted himself firmly between her thighs? Percen scowled as those images flashed through his mind. Of course his brother had tupped her. What man would turn away from such loveliness? Not Jorlan, surely, a connoisseur of female flesh. Well, ’twas reason enough for Percen to have her himself.

As his scowl lifted into a predatory grin, Percen tapped a finger against his chin. Just how should he go about winning this girl? His ugliness caused even the staunchest of stomachs to churn. Magic, mayhap? Aye, he could use the same spell he’d used all his life to lure women to his bed, a spell that made others see him as the man he wanted to be, not the man he truly was.

His eyes narrowed when the object of his query brushed her fingertip across Jorlan’s arm. Jorlan sent her a questioning gaze, then smiled, as if telling her without words to continue.

Percen’s fingers bit into his palms. Oh, this was going to be fun. So much fun.