Entangled (Prince of the Doomed City #2)

by Sylvia Mercedes

The Prince emerges. His trailing sleeves torn, his hair in disarray, he speeds up the street, eluding several grasping stone fists, and swipes up his sword. Scrambling, I manage to get to my feet just as he reaches me. “Fancy a stroll, Darling?” the Prince says, catching my hand. We run.

Im weak

I start to move, but the maid reaches to take my burden from me. A sudden rush of heat roars through me. Fury. Rage. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fit within my realm of understanding or reason. But it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that I do not wish to hand the girl over. The idea is about as palatable as cutting off my own arm.

I’m a slut for this

I’m slow and sluggish the following morning.

WHEN did i read 56% of this book!?! WHEN did i read 245 pages!?!?! WHEN

“Searching for you.” He approaches my desk, and I jump up from my chair to face him. Almost unconsciously I pluck up my quill again, gripping it like a weapon, though why I should feel the need for a weapon, I can’t explain.

I know exactly why Ivor is unsettling. He’s a man who won’t take no for an answer. Like, in a bad way.

I can never be whole again. Not until I make her mine.

Honestly, these Prince POV bits might have saved this story. Without them, I don’t think I would have understood that he’s even Fatebound. I would be confused by his sudden and intense love for her.

Something’s changed. Something’s wrong.

*shakes fist* IVOR

And I sit there, tears streaming down my cheeks, as the man who is now an orphan weeps for the loss of his mother.

Im tearing up rn bro, not nelle