The Shadow Princess (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 6)

Thank the gods for this dress and the long slit in its skirt.

Bastien holds me up with one hand and the pressure of his pelvis pinning me to the wall. His other hand tangles into my hair and holds me captive.

Flexing forward, I feel the mighty length of him pressing into my core, and I groan against his mouth.

Bastien pulls my head to the side, moves his lips from my mouth, and nibbles over my jaw and down my neck. I squirm against the onslaught, and it takes all my willpower not to wantonly grind on his erection.

Pulling back, Bastien stares into my eyes. He then leans his upper body back and drops his gaze to my chest, rising and falling. He releases my hair and drops his hand to the material at my sternum. With just his knuckles, he rubs over my breast, grazing my nipple. My entire body bucks from just that slight touch.

“I really didn’t want you to wear this dress today, but now I see its merits,” Bastien murmurs as he starts to pull the material to the side.

My insides are coiled tight, wondering where this is going. I’m quite fine if he wants to take it all the way, right here, right now.

A loud knock sounds at the door, and I jerk at the intrusion, which unfortunately breaks the spell.

“Thalia? Is everything okay?” Baynor calls through the wood.

Bastien and I stare at each other. I take a deep breath, hoping my voice comes out steady. “Yes. We’re just ironing out some issues. Can you give us a few more minutes?”

“Of course,” he replies, and his footsteps recede.

Bastien lowers me to the ground, hands on my hips until I’m steady. His expression is fierce. “I mean it, Thalia. You are not marrying Baynor Sorin.”

I’m torn between being angry at his high-handedness and yearning for him to declare I’m his. “Does that mean you’re offering me marriage?”

Bastien doesn’t even pause to think about it. “No. I’m not.” His tone is flat, and hard-hearted Bastien is back in full force.

Furiously, I push him away and smooth my dress. “Then you have no say in what I do. Get that through your thick skull.” I brush past him and storm out the door.

When I reach the main hall, I walk immediately to Baynor. “I apologize for our absence. Bastien was just making some of his concerns known, and I’ll take them under advisement. I am wondering, though, if I could talk to you in private as I have some details about your proposal I want to clarify.”

Baynor’s face lights up with a huge smile. “Of course. How about we take a walk outside? I assume you have a Garden of the Gods?”

“We have a lovely one,” I say as I tuck my hand into the crook of his elbow.

Bastien appears on the dais, and I issue an order that must be obeyed. “I need a private word with Prince Baynor. If you feel like you must put guards around me, they may post around the Garden of the Gods, but otherwise, we’re not to be disturbed.”

I don’t wait to see Bastien’s reaction and instead lead Baynor down the dais steps and off through a side hallway that leads outside.

CHAPTER 20

Bastien

Violence rippled through Bastien as he watched Thalia walk away with Sorin. He wanted to wring her neck for kissing him in such a way that made him want to abandon Vyronas and whisk her off to another dimension. He wanted to kill Baynor Sorin for proposing marriage in exchange for troops. Most would jump on such an offer. If Bastien’s dad were still alive and in command, he’d encourage Thalia to take the deal because if they were going to win the war, they had to unite all the royal houses. They didn’t have magic to defeat Ferelith, but with the royals unified, they could at least outnumber her forces. Perhaps they could overrun them and get a lucky shot at killing Ferelith.

Fuck… that kiss.

If he could wipe it off his face, he would. But at the same time, he wanted to grab her right now, drag her away, and spend an entire day just kissing her.

A memory assaults him viciously.

Thalia’s eighteenth birthday. The palace ballroom opened onto lush gardens with blooming flowers sparkling in the rose-colored moonlight. Several white tents had been erected, each decorated with flaming lanterns. Tables covered in crisp linen were adorned with vases of cream roses and pressian flowers.

A sprawling buffet offered an amazing assortment of food—a variety of baked and grilled fowl, including pheasant, chicken, and peacock, and platters of fire-roasted vegetables. One table held a long row of fish pies baked with figs, raisins, apples, and plums. Cold and hot soups took up another table, surrounded by fresh-baked flatbreads. Dessert was a simple lemon cake that stood five tiers tall with light cream frosting.