Chapter 17: Jealousy Looks Good on Him

I never had a chance to scream.

The door burst open with violence that shuddered walls and Kael stormed through it like a bottled storm, human-like shape and all.

Red eyes swarmed with some viscera, something animalistic, something which wrapped around the base of my lungs and crashed so hard there was no way to breathe.

I was stiff with terror in the center of my room, thudding heart making so much noise it was a miracle he couldn't hear it.

Or maybe he could.

Maybe he even enjoyed it.

"Where," Kael growled, his voice snake-like and deadly, "have you been?"

The air was charged with menace.

I had opened my lips, a thousand lies wanting to pour out.

Nothing poured out.

I was wiser than to attempt to lie.

Kael did not instruct her in forgiveness.

Two slow steps. Before I could do anything, I stepped back — into the bedpost behind me.

Trapped.

His lips curled into something less than a smile. "You thought you'd get away from me?"

"I wasn't getting away," I whispered, voice raw. "I just needed—"

"Needed what?" he snarled, stepping closer until his chest was hard against mine and I had to turn my head all the way around to meet his dazzling eyes. "A taste of rebellion? An evening with thieves who'd have me hanging from the gallows the moment I turned my back?"

My stomach twisted.

He knew.

It was obvious that he would.

Kael wasn't short anything in his kingdom—not the trembling of the walls, not the thumping of an unwanted heart against the gates.

And not me, either.

"Tell me, Scarlett," he growled, his hands on either side of the bedpost, holding me without holding. "Did he touch you?"

His voice had mellowed now, but so much blacker.

"I—no!" I said in a rush. "No one touched me."

It was true.

Riven had stayed away.

But somehow, that hadn't appeared to appease the prince looming over me.

Kael's jaw was set, like a knife being honed.

"That doesn't count," he snarled roughly, on the brink of muttering. "You were seen. You were wanted."

Something else was mixed in with his anger, something darker, more desperate.

Jealousy.

A kick to the gut, taking the air from me.

Kael was jealous.

The time I was supposed to be afraid of.

Instead, it lit something raw and furious within me.

"You don't own me," I panted, shoving at his chest. "You purchased my blood, but not my soul."

He didn't move for a moment.

Then—

His lips curled into a slow, lethal smile.

One that warned me that I would live to regret every single word.

"You’re right," he murmured, his voice a sinful caress that slid down my spine like ice. "Your blood is mine. Your silence is mine."

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

"And tonight, your body. Will remember who it belongs to."

I gasped as he grabbed my wrists, spinning me around and pressing me face-first against the bedpost. The wood was cool against my overheated skin.

Kael's body pressed me into the floor, his power harsh but contained, every movement calculated.

I might have struggled.

I should have.

But my deceitful body gave in to him, lapping the fires of his anger like parched skin.

"You disobeyed me," he snarled, his mouth tracing a line of fire along the length of my neck. "You endangered yourself."

His hand tracked down my waist, slow and cruel, until his fingers curved around my hip in a bruise-producing hold.

"And now, you'll pay for it."

My heart pounded in my chest, terror and something a great deal deadlier pumping through my veins.

"Kael—" I tried, but my voice cracked on his name.

He stilled me with a hard nip at the soft curve where the neck joined the shoulder.

Not a bite.

A warning.

My knees went weak, but he held me upright, supporting me through all his anger.

"You wanted freedom," he panted on my flesh. "You wanted to know how far you could go."

He curled his lip further downward, every word a sear.

"Congratulations, Scarlett. You won."

I whimpered as his hand shoved under the hem of my dress, the thin fabric going up with infuriating slowness.

But instead of the possessive stroke I had built up, Kael hung back.

Poured me into stillness.

Holding out.

Refusing.

The bitter stinging of shame was nigh on as pain as the burn deep within my belly.

This was atonement.

Not touching.

Denial.

I had wrapped my fists around in my hands.

I resented him.

I resented the way he knew exactly how to strip me bare and not bring me tumbling down.

"You will beg," Kael panted, voice black silk, "before you are worthy to be touched."

I squeezed my eyes shut, choking.

I would not beg.

I could not.

Pride sealed my lips.

Kael's fingers grazed down my thigh, the lightest caress that tautened all the muscles of my body to him.

And then he drew back.

His absence was pain.

I whirled, tearing back furious tears, and caught his eyes.

Blazing. Feral.

Jealous.

"Take this mercy," he growled, his tone rough. "Next time, I won't be so gentle."

He turned on his heel and departed, the door slamming behind him.

And left me standing — throbbing, seething, humiliated — in the dazed ruin of my insolence.

I stumbled across the bed, trembling with adrenaline and thwarted desire.

I hated him.

I hated him.

I hated myself more for that segment of me that had hungered for it.

Longed for him.

Not for his gentleness.

Not for his gentleness.

For this.

For the rage.

The flame.

How he stared at me as if he would reduce the world to nothing but a smoldering ash to keep another man from laying hands on me.

Jealousy became him.

Far too well.

And if I hadn't been so cautious. It was going to kill us both.

To be continued....