Chapter 11: Eyes That Burn

There was more to him.

Kael.

Prince of Blood.

Prince of Deceits.

I had seen it first that night in the garden—the next night, when he tore the forbidden book from between my fingers and closed it away behind doors of gold I did not expect breaking.

The court gathered for yet another of their limitless banquets, a gaudy spectacle of silk and cold smiles.

Gods pretending to be monsters.

Vampires shone, pretending behind gods.

And I—a red-robed lamb in the middle.

I stood silently at the far end of the slick, silver table, wrists cuffed in delicate silver manacles—a reminder.

Not cuffed.

But not free either.

Kael sat at the head of the table, clad in rich black and bloodred velvet, a thorn crown, and rubies tossed recklessly over dark hair.

He was bored.

Uninterested.

Until they touched me.

Lord Damaris, one of Kael's many councilmen, stroked a handful of hair off my shoulder as he passed by, his fingers lingering one beat too long.

Innocent by code of court.

Worth nothing to something.

But when I finally did look up—

I saw it.

Kael's face.

It wasn't boring.

It wasn't cold.

It burned.

He seared Lord Damaris with an ice fury so thick you could practically see it as if the air around him became tangible and soured.

My gut roiled.

And then, just as quick, Kael blinked—and the mask slipped back over his face.

Indifference.

Power.

Control.

The court laughed, no better.

But not I.

I saw the flip, I thought.

Later that night, the moon rode high and the court crept back into the shadows, I paced palace halls alone.

Or so I thought.

A rustle of movement at my back.

A breath on the nape of my neck.

I spun around—and there he stood.

Kael.

Unspoken.

Unblinking.

Watching.

His eyes smoldered in darkness, coals heating to flame.

"Why are you following me?" I spat, attempting not to let my voice shake.

He didn't answer right away.

Instead, he stepped closer, his boots over the chill of the marble floor.

"You shouldn't let them touch you," he whispered.

A shiver crept down my spine.

"Since when do you care?" I snapped before I could censor it.

Something flashed on his face.

Slipped away too quickly to take hold of.

"I don't," he said to me.

"But others will interpret it as an invitation."

"An invitation to what?" I mocked. "To more chains? More shackles?"

His jaw clenched.

"You are mine, Scarlett."

Those words between us hung, panting, heavy.

Not with honey.

Not with fire.

Possession.

Ownership.

I hated the way my heart jumped regardless.

"You can't have your cake and eat it, too, Kael," I gasped in fury. "You can't claim me as yours—And then bellow at being furious because some other fellow touches me."

His gemstone-like, speckled red eyes blazed to blackness, like a tempest on a sea of blood.

"I am not jealous," he snarled.

"I warn you."

I spat on him in contempt. "Oh, how holy."

He sprang at me so suddenly that I was not even allowed to gasp.

There was space between us one moment—the next, I was being pressed against the cold wall, his arms on either side of my head, his body up against mine it without ever touching.

I could sense his strength vibrating around him like a living thing.

Taste it on the back of my tongue like lightning before the storm.

"Does it look like a game?" he growled, head inches from my own so his warm breath teased across my mouth.

"Think you can live here alone without my protection?"

I threw him up at him, pounding his heart.

"Perhaps I don't need your protection," I panted, voice shaking with fearlessness I didn't possess.

His eyes dropped to mine.

For the length of one heartbeat, my existence had been reduced to nothing more than him—Kael—the boy I despised, the man to whom I could not refuse.

"You have no idea what you're asking," he snarled with viciousness.

"Maybe I do," I panted back.

Something inside him broke.

I saw it—the moment the fragile thread he was walking on broke.

But instead of shoving his mouth everywhere over mine, instead of asphyxiating me with his breath as I'd feared (starved?), he released me.

Abruptly.

Violently.

As if the touch seared him.

He spun from me wordlessly and disappeared down the charred corridor, billowing cloak fluttering like wings on a fallen angel. I crept along the wall, trembling legs, shaking hands.

What is the name of all that's sane was happening?

---

I saw it in the days that followed.

The way Kael's eyes clouded whenever some other courtier drew too near.

The way his jaw tightened when his toxic cousin, Varyn, drew too near during dance lessons.

The way he, discreetly, left two of his guards behind to follow me like ghostly apparitions.

He could say that he did not care.

He could lie.

But his body was betrayed.

And mine.

Gods, mine is worse.

For despite all—everything—the shame, the blood oath, the gilded cage I'd built of velvet manacles—Part of me somewhere laughed at the way he regarded me.

As if I was the last standing thing in his life that held value.

As if letting me go would kill him.

I was walking a blade's edge.

And softly, I knew

If I wasn't careful, I'd not fall from the fall.

It was in the Courtyard of Moonlight, three nights hence, that it came to blows at last.

I stood there, alone, and watched the twin moons cast otherworldly glints upon the silver fountains.

And Kael pursued me.

Again.

"Scarlett," he growled, face as unyielding as velvet.

I whirled to confront him, my pulse pounding at my throat.

He. looked. Differently this night.

Less prince.

More man.

Haunted.

Hungry.

Fists at his waist, fists clenched as if in command.

I stepped across to inform him—to ask him, but he ground chewed between us in three steps.

And this time, when he shoved me back with his body, he released it.

Fist pressed against the jaw pushed face up against him.

"Stay away from them," he growled. "Stay in my sight."

"Why?" I panted.

"Because I'm not going to make you any kind of vow of what I'll do if you don't," he snarled.

And then, for the first time in history, Kael's lips touched mine—

Not a kiss.

Not yet.

Just the slightest caress.

A promise of something fiery.

A warning.

And then he vanished, and I was trembling beneath the moons.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, observing him sprint.

Kael's eyes blazed hotter than fire.

And I was a moth—

Already too close.

Already too lost.

Already ablaze.

To be continued…