Tempted by a Rogue Prince (17 page)

Unlocking his remaining cuff. It clattered to the ground, and he placed two thin silver and black bands around his wrists. She gasped as black scales swarmed from them, rippling over his skin and covering him in skin-tight armour that left nothing to the imagination as it hugged his powerful body. She had heard that elf armour responded to the owner’s mental commands, and that only weapons forged of the same metal could penetrate it. It was magic. There had to be some latent form of magic in the ore that allowed it to reshape itself and shrink into a tiny space, or grow to cover an entire six-feet-six of toned, handsome elf.

She shook her head and mentally deleted the last part of that thought.

Vail pulled a short silver sword out of thin air and held it out to her.

Rosalind instantly backed away, shaking her head. She couldn’t lay hands on anything designed for killing when death cries still haunted her. She couldn’t trust herself with a weapon. Not anymore. Never again.

The elf raised an eyebrow at her and the sword disappeared.

He flexed his fingers and his black armour covered them, transforming them into serrated sharp claws. That was what he had expected to happen that day when they had first met in his cell, when he had flexed his fingers all those times. He had been distraught because of the loss of his armour. He held his hand out to her.

“Come. Female.”

She hesitated, wary of touching him. Could he bear her touch without ill effect when wearing his armour? It provided a protective layer between them, preventing skin contact, but it wouldn’t stop him from sensing her magic.

He flexed his fingers again.

Rosalind placed her hand into his and gasped as pale blue-purple light swept over his body, down his arm and up hers, and the cold dark swallowed her again.

They landed in the corridor outside the cell and Rosalind’s eyes widened as they fell on the dead demon guard, bile scorching her throat before she turned her back on the gruesome sight. Vail released her and moved around her. The strange light flashed again and she sensed Vail on the other side of the door. Ditching the dead demon in the cell to cover their tracks?

Rosalind supposed that covert tactics were probably Vail’s forte having spent several thousand years evading Loren and everyone out to capture him.

He reappeared in front of her and she stumbled back a step, her heart leaping into her throat. It was going to take her some time to get used to him unexpectedly popping into existence.

He hesitated and then grabbed her hand again, and teleported.

Her head spun this time, mind whirling as they reappeared in the corridor outside his old cell in the dungeon.

Fenix got to his feet and casually strode to the bars of his cell. “All went to plan then?”

Vail nodded. Rosalind frowned. The two men had conspired with each other, forming a plan to get her out of solitary and back with them so they could all escape together?

She was surprised, but glad that Fenix was coming with them. It would help her maintain some distance between her and Vail, and she needed that right now.

Vail released her, teleported into Fenix’s cell and unlocked his cuffs for him. The incubus tossed them away and stretched his arms above his head, causing the muscles of his bare chest to flex. Rosalind muttered a spell to protect against his charms, even though she knew it wouldn’t work while her wrists were still bound. Fenix winked at her.

Vail tossed a snarl over his shoulder at her and then quickly looked away, but not before she caught the conflict in his purple eyes.

It seemed this bond had him as confused and torn as she was about it. She wanted to ask if there was a way to break it, but failed to see the point in wasting her breath. Elves had one fated female they could bond with and that reeked of a forever commitment to her.

Her eyes widened.

“Mother earth…”

She was immortal.

As a witch, she aged slower than humans, but she wasn’t immortal. She had reached her hundredth year in this world, and had another fifteen or so before she went through her second transition. That transition would have made her ageless, her appearance fixed in what mortals perceived as mid-thirties, but it wouldn’t have made her immortal.

Would she even go through that second transition now?

Vail had already fixed her appearance for her, changing her biology with his blood and the bond.

What if she didn’t go through it? She was powerful and had mastered many high level spells years before others in her family had been able to, but her second transition would unlock her powers to a greater extent.

She needed to go through that transition if she was to reach her full potential as a witch.

Fenix teleported out of the cell and into the corridor beside her, and said in the fae tongue, “Five quid says I can guess what you’re thinking.”

Rosalind scowled up at him. “I wouldn’t even give you a penny. Bloody bastard elf.”

Fenix chuckled. “That would be your bloody bastard elf prince husband.”

A shiver snaked down her spine and she stared into the cell at Vail. He glanced her way, light traced over the contours of his skin-tight black armour, and he disappeared. She braced herself a second before he reappeared next to Fenix.

Not next to her.

Was he going to use Fenix as a sort of blocker now?

She couldn’t blame him if he did. She had been planning to do the same thing, using Fenix as a physical wall to keep her distance from Vail.

Vail made a silver sword appear in his hand and held it out to Fenix. The incubus took it without hesitation and executed a few jabs and twirls with it.

“Nice.” He practically purred in approval of the weapon and she envied him a little, wishing she’d had the courage to take the blade for herself.

Rosalind looked down at her cuffs, unsure whether she wanted them removed. With them dampening her power, she couldn’t kill anyone. All she could do was heal. All she could do was good. She was safe with them on, and the thought of giving them up twisted her insides into knots and had her heart beginning to race.

She would be useless in a fight with the cuffs on though, restricting her movements, and there was no way they were going to get out of the castle and away without encountering trouble. She had incapacitating spells at her command. She could use them to freeze anyone who dared to attack them. She could get them out without them resorting to killing.

Rosalind sucked down a steadying breath and held her hands out to Vail, the length of thick chain between them rattling as it swung.

Vail stepped towards her, the key in his hand, and then stopped.

A chill went through her.

“Get on with it. Remove them.” Her heart started to pound as her gaze darted between his and the keys. Something flickered in his violet eyes. She shook her head and lurched towards him, making a grab for the keys.

They disappeared from his hand.

Her thoughts rattled at a million miles per hour, leaping between two conclusions, neither of which she liked.

Either he intended to leave her bound or he intended to leave her here.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” she whispered, fear getting the better of her. She didn’t want to be trapped here anymore, and the guards would kill her when they discovered Vail and Fenix were gone. They would punish her for their actions and escape.

The hard angles of his face softened a touch, just enough that she noticed it, and relief crashed over her, bringing with it startling warmth as she stared up into his eyes, catching a glimmer of what might have been concern or compassion.

It lasted barely a heartbeat, a faint flicker of something good and sweet, before darkness consumed it.

“I will not, but I cannot release you. Your power.” His face twisted and he buried his clawed fingers in his black hair, clutching his head. “I can sense it now. Pushing. Evil. Wretched witch.”

Rosalind took a step back and he jerked his head up, his eyebrows furrowed and purple eyes imploring her, as if he feared her taking another step away. But why?

The inky spots were back in his irises, infesting the beautiful clear amethyst, and they multiplied as she stared into his eyes. With his dampening restraints gone, and all his powers returned, he could feel the magic in her clearer than before and it was playing havoc with him. There was something else in his eyes too, a deeper fear, one that controlled him to a degree.

Fear for himself or for her?

“Vail?” she whispered and his grip on his head tightened, he looked away and then back at her. “Tell me why you won’t remove them.”

She was pushing him too hard but she needed to know. Having her powers bound would stop her from being able to hurt him, and others, and she wanted that, but she also hated feeling her magic trapped inside her. The chain between the cuffs was short too and restrictive. It would be easy for her to fall and be unable to save herself, and she would be useless in a fight. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

She would have to rely on him and he had given her no reason to believe that he would protect her.

Rosalind looked down at the cuffs clamped around her wrists. If they stayed on, she felt certain she would meet her doom just as her grandmother predicted. If she had a date with death, she at least wanted it to be on her terms. She wanted a shot at surviving and that meant having her powers available. But if they were available, she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop herself from killing again. If they came under attack, she would defend herself and Fenix, and Vail, and she felt certain that she would kill in order to save them. She would do it without thinking and without hesitation, and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to bear knowing that she was capable of such a thing.

“I do not wish to hurt you,” Vail whispered and she looked up into his eyes, catching the truth behind his words in them.

That soft confession swayed her and she was grateful for it. It had taken him courage and strength to voice those words.

Rosalind nodded. “Promise me you will release me when you’re ready though.”

Vail stared down into her eyes and the air around them grew thicker, the world falling away as she lost herself in the clear amethyst depths of his irises.

He raised his left hand, his claws flexing, bringing it close to her face but not touching her, and his eyes searched hers as he whispered, “I might never be ready to release you.”

Her heart pounded hard, heat chasing through her veins and desire flaring unbidden, stronger than she could fight it.

His veiled confession rocked her to her soul and shook her, stripping away her strength and her resolve as it revealed a side of him that left her more confused than ever.

He had meant more than releasing her from the bonds.

He had meant from him.

He might never let her go.

Mother earth help her, but the crazy part of her she kept trying to pretend didn’t exist wanted him to hold on to her with both hands, even when she knew fate had other plans.

He might not get to keep her for long.

Death was waiting for her, the grim end of a prediction she had spent her whole life hiding from, trapped by it and afraid to live and do all the things she wanted to do in case she ran into an elf prince.

Now she had met that handsome, damaged elf male, and she was damned if she was going to keep hiding from her fate and holding back from doing the things she wanted to do.

She stared up into Vail’s beautiful eyes, seeing a man she could easily love, one who had already placed a claim on her affection. She was falling hard and she was falling fast, and she was going to stop running from her feelings for him. She was going to embrace them instead and risk everything. She was going to crack his armour and mend his heart, and then she was going to claim it as hers and him as her mate.

If she was destined to die, then she was going to live and love first.

L
ittle Wild Rose muttered under her breath in the fae tongue, her blue eyes focused on her work as she used a healing spell on Fenix. No doubt, the witch cursed Vail’s name. She had been unimpressed when she had discovered that the plan was to teleport short distances through the castle and that neither he nor Fenix possessed the power to teleport two with them. He had agreed a destination within the castle with Fenix, a point they both knew, and had teleported Rosalind there. It had been his first mistake.

The more powerful the person he was teleporting with him, the bigger the drain on his power. Little Wild Rose was infinitely more powerful than he had suspected and the accumulated drain on his strength from teleporting with her several times in close succession had weakened him dramatically.

His control had slipped.

The feel of a witch close to him, her body against his, had sent him down a dark and terrible path and he had hurled Rosalind away from him before blacking out.

When he had come around, Fenix had been restraining him, bending his arms behind his back while shoving his face and chest into one of the stone walls of the corridor.

The witch had wisely kept her distance, her delicate features set in a wary expression.

Vail had made his second mistake.

He had suggested Fenix be the one to teleport her to their next destination—the courtyard.

The second Fenix had slipped his arm around Little Wild Rose’s waist, Vail had seen red.

He had attacked Fenix, barrelling into him and taking him down, wrestling with the incubus so he had ended up on top. He had pinned the wretched male to the grimy damp stone floor and had hammered him with blows, and the male had deserved every single one.

He had touched Vail’s mate. He had placed his dirty paws on Vail’s female.

And the gold and blue that had flickered in his eyes had said he had been enjoying the feel of her curves beneath his fingers and her body tucked close to his.

Vail narrowed his purple gaze on the male, his dark hungers renewing, rising again to whisper dangerous words in his ears.

The male wanted her still.

Fenix watched her hands as she moved them over his face but his green eyes kept flickering to meet her blues, studying them and her face.