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“Mark my words, Prince, I will be your undoing.” I lean in, ignoring the knife against my throat as I murmur, “Oh, darling, I look forward to it.”
“Too stubborn to ask for my help, Gray?” “No,” I say coolly. “Too strong to need it.” His next words are murmured close to my ear. “That’s what I like to hear.”
She is the embodiment of a bad decision. The twin of danger and desire. The fine line between deadly and divine. And I can feel myself drowning.
“Remind me to make you smile like that again, when you aren’t dying, and I have all the time in the world to memorize it.”
Far, far away, I hear a male voice muttering panicked words. “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”
If I am to be her enemy, I want it to be because she loathes herself for wanting me.
“My soldiers don’t mean anything to me. They are expendable and easy to replace.” His chest heaves, his eyes locked with mine. “So, yes, Gray. You aren’t one of my soldiers.”
She’s so stunning, yet so stubbornly oblivious to how the sunset behind dulls in comparison to the vibrance that is her.
“And I’ll save your life again and again, aimlessly hoping you will allow me to stay in it.”
“Oh, darling, a trophy implies that I won it, earned it, deserve it.” He leans in farther, a certain reverence reflecting in his gaze. “But if I get to have you, it will be because you let me.”
“Tell me,” he murmurs, “what do you want me to call you?” My eyes slowly meet his, confused by his question. “What do you want to call me?” “I want to call you mine.”
