The Prince by Jennifer Armentrout

Author:Jennifer Armentrout [Armentrout, Jennifer L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 1001 Dark Nights, Jennifer L. Armentrout, Wicked, fantasy, romance
Publisher: Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The Prince’s parting words stung more than they should have as I stared at him. There was a part of me, a stupid, tiny part of me that was hurt by those words. The rational part of me knew that was stupid because I’d called myself a ghost.

But to hear him say it?

Brighton from two years ago would’ve never found herself in this situation in the first place, but if she did, she would’ve definitely run from the room to lick her wounds no matter how stupid those wounds were.

But I wasn’t her.

And I might not know what the hell I was anymore, but in that moment, I wasn’t a ghost. Not anymore.

I met his gaze and then smiled as I slowly lifted my hand and flipped him off.

His nostrils flared.

With that, I pivoted around and stalked out of the weird room with my head high. The moment I yanked open the stupid door, my mind immediately went berserko on me, replaying every word we exchanged.

My head was a freaking mess as I slammed the door shut behind me, mainly because I’d never shared with anyone else what I shared with him. I had no explanation for why, none that made sense at least. I couldn’t even believe that I’d spoken those words to him. Embarrassment rose as I stalked down the dark hallway, toward where I remembered the stairway was, hearing the thump of music once again. As I opened the door, I briefly fantasized about racing back into that room and spin kicking him in the face.

That fantasy was probably why I didn’t realize the stairwell wasn’t empty until it was too late.

A shadow peeled off the wall and came at me fast and hard. I didn’t even get the chance to engage the cuff and release the stake. My right arm was twisted behind my back as an icy hand curled around my neck.

A burst of panic punched through my chest as I was flipped around and my front pushed against the wall. The side of my face slammed into the cool brick. Stinging pain exploded from my nose and I tasted blood in the back of my throat.

“I recognized you,” the voice said, and I couldn’t place it. “You were in the club Saturday night. You went into the room with Tobias. Your hair was red then. Different eye color, too.”

Hell.

Shock that my disguise had been seen through gave way to finely honed instinct. Going limp, my sudden weight caught the fae off guard. He stumbled back a step, giving me the room I needed. Bringing my legs up, I planted them in the wall and used it as a springboard. The fae slammed into the wall behind him, the impact jarring his hold loose enough for me to break it.

I fell forward, my knees cracking off the cement. Knowing I only had seconds, I shifted my weight to my palms as I looked over my shoulder, kicking my leg out. My booted heel connected with the fae’s midsection, sending him back again to the wall with a grunt.

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