When It Reigns (Cursed Reigns, #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Pressure blossomed behind my forehead, and I peeled my eyes open, squinting in the harsh sunlight streaming in from the window.

"I came as soon as I knew you'd awaken."

I jolted straight up, slipping my hand in the slit of my dress to grab a knife. My hand met the smooth skin of my thigh, and I patted my leg, frantically searching for my weapons. I sighed in relief when I felt the three dragon scales still strapped to my ribcage.

"You can have those back when you're no longer threatening the prince," Edge's sultry voice obliged as he leaned back in the chair positioned in the corner of the bedroom, twirling one of my topaz knives between his agile fingers covered by a layer of bone.

The room was modest and insignificant. I was sitting on a firm bed meant for a single occupant with a leaden duvet and matching gray sheets that faced a window placed high on the stone wall. Edge was seated next to a fireplace and kicked his feet up on the circular wooden table in front of him. His legs spread out on either side of a vase containing a random assortment of flowers that seemed foreign in this depleted kingdom. The only other piece of furniture was a short dresser with a few drawers and a mirror resting haphazardly on top with my crown.

I squirmed, irked by the thought of Shade's or Edge's fingers touching me to disarm me. I despised no one else more than the demons for what they had done to my mother and how they terrorized the empire, and now I was stuck living among them with the daunting task of taking the prince's life before he stole mine.

"Why would I assassinate the prince while I'm surrounded by demons knowing that I would be next, followed by my empire?"

"You won't."

I scrunched my brows. "Exactly..." I murmured, surprised by his immediate agreement at my flagrant lie.

"Do not poke the beast, my princess. Your death will come sooner than is written."

Edge pocketed my knife and stood, leaving me confused as I tried to distinguish the meaning behind his precaution. He pushed the chair in as he yawned and bared his fangs budding with venom.

"There's a formal banquet this afternoon. You'll find clothes in this dresser," he said, patting the furniture as he strode by it, smoke dispersing up the chimney of the fireplace even though there was an absence of flames, "and you are expected to attend as the guest of honor."

I didn't provide him with an answer as he left the room and shut the door. I knew better than to think he was gone and figured I wouldn't be able to accomplish an inconspicuous getaway as Edge adopting the task of being my guard.

I laid back on the dense metallic pillows and sighed.

Masters? I tried.

I waited a few moments, unease swelling as minutes ticked by without a reply. I clutched the comforter in my fists and squeezed my eyes shut as I focused on sending my thoughts to Zoran.

Masters. I need to talk to you. It's important.

Nothing. Not even a comeback or smart retort was communicated with me. My headache resumed with fervor as I deliberated whether he loathed me and never wanted to speak to me again, or if we couldn't communicate due to the long stretch of vastness between our bond. I almost preferred it to be the former reason, so then I could at least tell him to warn my father about the Ravos Prince's true intentions.

Giving up after losing count of the number of messages I sent to Zoran, I clambered out of bed and stripped out of the suffocating dress. My gloves had been taken along with my throwing stars. The lack of my weapons left me feeling even more naked than standing in the middle of the room without clothing.