Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

I sidestep him and continue on my way. After all, I don’t want to hinder his man-whorish ways.

I make a beeline to the library to return the book A Military History and Atlas of the Napoleonic Wars. I read the whole thing last night, so I might as well take another one.

I’m in front of a shelf when a strong hand grabs me by the arm from behind.

Third and final trigger.

My heart nearly stops beating as I shriek. The sound is so loud my ears pop.

Only no sound comes out.

A hand wraps tightly around my mouth, killing any protest I could form.

I stare up at Ronan’s symmetrical eyes. There is no laughter in there, no winks or anything familiar. It’s a bit blank, a bit too…empty.

It’s almost as if I’m staring at a different person.

The change disappears in a second as a grin breaks out on his face, and just like that, the shallow version returns.

Was it even there? Maybe the change was a play of my imagination because of the trigger I just experienced.

My ears still ring from the effect of it, so it can’t be far off.

Still, my chest rises and falls so heavily it’s like a war has already started in my heart and is now about to take me over.

Ronan lowers his hand as if he didn’t just muffle my scream and trigger my damn episode.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snap.

“Shh.” He places his forefinger in front of his mouth, motioning at Mrs Abbot, the librarian. “We’re at the library.”

“And what are you doing here?” I whisper.

“Told you.” He gives me back my personal space as if he didn’t confiscate it a second ago. “I want a word with you.”

“And I told you no.” I turn on my heels, breathing heavily and trying to subdue the shadow on my shoulder, trying to keep it from pouncing at me.

I need to get the fuck out of here and take a pill to calm down. Otherwise, I’ll be jittery all damn day.

My episodes have that effect on me.

An arm shoots out in front of my face, and I push back, jolting as it clutches a shelf, blocking my exit.

Damn him.

I can already feel the usual shortness of breath and trembling of my toes. If he keeps doing this, I’ll really have no way to stop whatever’s brewing in the distance.

Might as well get this over with.

“Fine.” I breathe out, meeting his gaze. “What do you want?”

“I’m happy you changed your mind.” He tilts his head with a smile.

Changed my mind? More like was coerced into it.

The fucker.

I still can’t pinpoint if he did it on purpose or if it was a lucky hit. Please let it be the latter, because if it’s the former, I’m in trouble.