Cress (The Lunar Chronicles, #3)

by Marissa Meyer

“But you’re a prisoner,” said Thorne. “I prefer damsel in distress,” she murmured. One side of Thorne’s mouth quirked up, into that perfect half smile he’d had in his graduation photo. A look that was a little bit devious, and all sorts of charming. Cress’s heart stopped, but if they noticed her melting into her chair, they didn’t say anything.

“You serve the queen,” she said. “How can I trust you?” His lips twitched, like she’d made a joke, but his eyes were quick to harden again. “I serve my princess. No one else.” The floor dropped out from beneath her. The princess. His princess. He knew.

“Cress, do me a favor.” He twirled her around so that her back was against him—she was beginning to feel like a satellite being constantly spun out of orbit, but she had no time to think as Thorne settled his arm on her shoulder. “Make sure I don’t shoot anyone we like.”