Not because I’m scared of what he’ll do to me, but rather of what I might do to him if he persists.
As I near the entrance of the garden, I’m jerked backward by my skirt. Sebastian twirls me around and grabs my arms, backing me into the lattice wall. He lowers his face before mine. “I want to hear it from your lips that there is no other reason you will not give yourself to me.” His heated breath fans my face, and I struggle against him. “Say it.”
His hold on my arms tightens as he pushes me harder against the lattice. His body presses against mine and he grabs my wrists, sliding my hands above my head as he bears all his weight on me. My mind calculates all the ways I could break free of him—all the ways that would have him questioning me. I know I can’t show that I’ve learned to defend myself.
Finally, I give in to his demand, though all I want to do is strike him. I meet his wild eyes. “It is my wish to be married before I’m physical with my husband.” I use the adrenaline burning inside me to shed a tear for good measure. My body shakes.
He releases me, and I grasp one of my wrists, massaging the ache away as much as preventing myself from punching his face. “What is wrong with you?” I say, low and breathy.
His shoulders sag, and he looks to the ground. “I had too much to drink at the celebration,” he admits. “I’m sorry.” As he lifts his head, his eyes search me; his brows pull together. “I’m sorry, Zara. I’ve just been so lost as to why I cannot make you mine.”
I hold his dejected gaze a moment longer, my body thrumming with conflicted fury. I turn my back on him and start out of the garden, saying over my shoulder, “I forgive you, Sebastian.” Then I march toward the castle.
When he is King, I’ll have all the liquor in Karm disposed of.
Suddenly, I stop. I look back toward the garden. My face pinches, remembering the smell of his mint breath. There wasn’t a trace of alcohol.
TWENTY-SEVEN
I wait for Devlan in the secret chamber under the court grounds. After contacting him through the communicator, I requested that we meet earlier than planned. I couldn’t pace my room, continually replaying the garden scene in my mind, any longer.
The celebration is still going on, and looks like it will continue long into the night if not the early morning. Xander is keeping the prince and knights under close watch so I can train. And though Sebastian was sober in the garden, I’m sure he is now drinking himself into oblivion.
Footsteps sound from the tunnel, and I hide in the dark corner of the room until Devlan comes into view. He stops mid-stride and looks around. I lurch from my hiding spot and jump on his back. “—should always check your perimeter when you enter a room,” I scold.
His hands latch onto my arms and he attempts to throw me off his back, but I lock my legs around his waist. He backs me into a wall, and the air whooshes out of my lungs. My hold on him loosens, and he pries my arms from around him.
“Had enough?” he says, keeping me pinned to the wall. “I’m going to drop you now.”
“All right.” My pride is wounded, as well as my back. I fall to the ground as he releases me. Rubbing my lower back, I glare as he straightens his tunic. “I nearly had you that time.”
He looks up from his rumpled shirt and his lips curl into a half-grin. “I knew you were there. And I’ve known where you were hiding the last two times you’ve tried something like that.” He steps closer. “Just because I don’t turn my head, doesn’t mean I’m not surveying the room.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.” Stepping toward the hidden weapons, I go to remove the dark canvas, but Devlan grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop.
“No swords,” he says. “You won’t be able to sneak one in. I don’t like the idea of you trying to sneak in your dagger either, but you’ll need something.”
“I won’t go without my father’s dagger,” I say evenly.
He nods once. “I know.” He makes a “bring it on” gesture with his hands. “No holding back tonight. Don’t worry about injuring me. Give me all you’ve got.”
“You know just what to say to a girl, Devlan.” I roll my shoulders as his brow furrows and lips part, but I come at him before he can retort.
Crashing into his chest, I knock him off-balance, but only for a moment. Just long enough to swipe at his legs. He staggers, but catches himself before he drops to the ground. He throws a punch and I duck. Then I bound up and send my knee into his kidney.
He grunts, and I follow up with a half-twist and an elbow to the same spot. He hits the wall. “You really aren’t holding back.”
“Not tonight.” I advance on him with another blow to the stomach.
I picture Sebastian’s face as he forced me against the lattice, and anger ignites my blood. I hear the lie on Sebastian’s lips, and send my knee into Devlan’s side. He doubles over, but quickly straightens and grabs me around the waist, hauling me into the air. I latch my legs around his midsection and squeeze. He grunts and flattens my back to the wall.
Perfect.
Devlan cranes an eyebrow. “I don’t think that was a good move.” His fingers press into my sides, his thumbs rest on my ribs.
His eyes travel over my body, and I smile when they find the strategically laced top of my dress. I arch my back, and his mouth falls considerably open as I slide my hand up my leg and grasp my dagger. I pull it from its sheath and press it to his throat.
His eyes widen, and I release the breath I’d been holding. “Wasn’t there some lesson on secret weapons?” I raise my eyebrows.
His lips stretch into that beautiful smile I so rarely see. “As I said—” his eyes trace the curves of my body before meeting mine again “—a weapon no man can resist.” I hold his unwavering gaze as he backs away from the wall and gently lowers my feet to the ground.
My cheeks warm. I didn’t think Devlan would fall prey to that tactic, but I gloat regardless. I’ve bested him. My chest rises with pride.
He makes another “come at me” motion. “We have no time to waste, princess.” He cocks his head. “I promise I won’t fall for that again.” He lunges at me.
Dagger still in hand, I don’t think; I react, swiping the air before me. He pulls back a fraction too late and my blade slices his chest.
“Devlan—” I reach out to him. “It was instinct. I didn’t mean—”
“You missed.” He looks down and stretches out the cut fabric of his uniform vest and tunic. “At least, I think.” He pulls the tunic and vest over his head, then examines his chest. A thin cut beads red along the left side of his rib cage. “All right, maybe you got me a little.”
I huff out a long breath, relieved. “Don’t tell me you’re truly hurt. A scratch?”
“No, not hurt.” He swipes the slash of red away from his chest before looking up at me. “I’m just wondering how to explain my shredded uniform.” He holds up his tunic.
I bite the inside of my cheek. I didn’t give him a chance to change out of his uniform before I pounced on him. “It’s not shredded,” I argue, though it will be difficult to explain why it’s cut. His lips stretch into a smile, alleviating my worry, and a smile tugs at my lips. “Don’t you have another?”
“I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me this time.” He eyes me, then nods to himself, as if remembering something. He turns and heads toward the canvas. “But I did leave an extra uniform here last time.” His back catches the torchlight, and I see the long scar more clearly here than at the meadow.
He bends over and comes up with a black tunic. His back muscles work against his skin as he turns it right side in. My eyes continue to trace the scar. I can’t help wondering how he got it, if it was a training injury. But it looks too calculated, purposely done, and with a weapon that wouldn’t be used in a combat exercise.