Fireblood (Fireblood 1)

His lips work, forcing mine apart as his tongue slides into my mouth. I’m stunned for a moment until the taste of alcohol and the roughness of his kiss—his teeth biting down on my lip—spur

me into action. I pull at his hair. It doesn’t stop him, and I beat my fists against his shoulders.

Turning my head to the side, I gasp. “Stop. No!”

He cups my face and forces my eyes to meet his. A cruel glint shines in his golden irises as his eyes glaze over. “You’re mine.” I try to turn my face away again, but he snaps my head back into place, banging my head against the wall. “You belong to me.”

My insides shake, and my heart slams against my rib cage. Fear grips my body whole, paralyzing me. Suddenly, I hit the ground, landing wobbly on my feet, and support myself against the wall. I suck in a breath.

Devlan holds Sebastian by the arms, yanking him back. I palm the top of my bodice, trying to adjust the material that has slipped down, while keeping my heart from leaping out of my chest. The first knight’s eyes meet mine, and I stop breathing. Their blue is fierce and cold, and it chills my blood.

“Prince,” Devlan says, a deep boom in his voice. “I implore you, allow Princess Zara to retire for the evening.” He releases Sebastian and stands at attention. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness.” He bows quickly. “But you may regret your actions come morning.”

Sebastian’s eyes find mine, and he licks his bottom lip, tasting my blood on his mouth. He drops his head and sways. “You’re right, Devlan.” He coughs, clearing the strain from his voice. “My head is not clear.” He parts his lips to say something more, but instead, presses his lips into a hard line. He nods once, then walks away, stumbling down the corridor.

I swipe the back of my hand across my swollen lips. My arm trembles. I lower it, attempting to hide my fright from Devlan.

“Princess?” His eyes linger on me, their blue pools warming as they search my frame. “Are you—?”

“Yes,” I say quickly. “I’m fine. Thank you.” I push off the wall and turn away sharply, too embarrassed at having been caught in such a position to speak with him. I was so helpless. I clamp my eyes shut, stopping the burn from the unshed tears.

I start walking down the hallway, needing to be alone, and hear Devlan’s footfalls close behind.

Please, go away. “I can see myself to my chamber. Thank you again, Sir Devlan. I promise…I’m all right.” I tell him this over my shoulder, praying he leaves.

“I have no doubt you can see yourself there.” His voice gets closer. “But it’s still my duty, princess.”

My shoulders shake against my will, and I tremble as the adrenaline leaves my system. My legs feel too shaky to keep moving so I stop, letting myself feel weak for the moment. Suddenly furious at myself, I slam a clenched fist against the wall, and then lean my back against the hard stone.

Devlan steps up to me. His hand reaches out, but then he rests it on his hilt instead. “The prince was in an intoxicated frame of mind. It’s no excuse.” He grits his teeth; a muscle jumps in his jaw. “But he meant no harm. Are you injured?”

“Nay.” I harshly wipe the traitorous tear from my cheek. “Just my pride.” I lace my arms over my chest. “Being reminded of how helpless and weak you are is never received well. I’m a fool for—” I stop short before I let something slip about my plan to escape. He must believe I’ve abandoned my idea of running away.

It doesn’t matter what I say, though. Sebastian has proven that I won’t get far if I take off on my own. How am I going to escape all of the Force when they come for me? My father raised me with nurturing and books and discussion. How will any of that help when I need to be fearless and brave, strong and able to defend myself?

I scuff my slipper against the stone floor, unwilling to meet Devlan’s eyes. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be a girl in Karm, and I don’t need his pity.

He exhales heavily as he sidles up beside me. Taking my chin between his finger and thumb, he lifts my face. I angle my head all the way back in order to meet his pale eyes as he looks down on me. “You are not helpless. Nor are you weak.” He releases my face, but I continue looking into his. He’s so close I can see the dark shadow of facial hair scattered along his jaw. Feel the warmth of his breath across my skin.

“I don’t feel otherwise.” I bite my bottom lip.

He holds my gaze. His lips part and he shifts his stance. A small groan rumbles in his throat, but he chokes off the noise.

Wonderful. I’ve now made the first knight uncomfortable, too. I take a step back and wave off my confession. “I meant…I’d just like to be able to beat back drunken buffoons from slathering me with sloppy kisses.”

Relief floods me when Devlan’s lips quirk up at one side. “Was it your first?” He tilts his head, studying me. “Is that part of the reason you’re upset?”

My mouth falls open, and I regret giving him this opening. “Nay.” I hear the lie in my voice. “Nay. I should simply know how to defend myself. That is all.”

His eyes are hard on me, his brow pinched in thought. “And if you were given the chance to learn?” His eyes, unblinking, hold mine. “Would you meet that challenge?”

“I would,” I say. Then with more assertion, “Are you offering to teach me, Devlan?”

For a second, he looks as if he’ll agree. His eyes are still on me, gauging me, sizing up my response. He takes a step back, wary. “Nay. But there are archery lessons offered to maidens, and, in a sense, it’s a way to become more proficient in certain skills.” He looks down the hallway, away from me. “I’m sure the prince would approve if you were interested.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t need his approval, but I’d like to learn something more than archery.” I ball my fist. “How to punch, mayhap.”

This elicits a small smile from him, but he keeps his eyes trained on something farther down the corridor. “Good night, princess.” He steps closer and looks down at me. “Remember this,” he says in a low, husky voice. “It doesn’t count if it’s unwanted.” His eyes flicker, the torches’ flames dancing in his light irises. I wish to deny his claim about the kiss, but something in his tone rings so true it holds me captive. “You can still bestow the gift of your kiss whenever you choose, to whom you choose.” He steps back and bows. When he rises, he squares his shoulders. “And remember. It’s Sir Devlan when in the presence of others.”