Prince Taveon stormed into Bree’s room while she still had her skin soaking in the soothing water of the bathtub. She’d found a bathroom in a door just off from her bedroom and had gone straight in after Lord Dagen had left. And then the Prince came looking for her. When he didn’t find her in the bedroom, he threw open the bathroom door and pushed inside without a moment’s hesitation. His entire face was a worrying shade of red, and his hands were trembling as he stared down at her.

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking across the bubbles that hid most of her body from view. But the sight of her was still enough to cause him to stammer out his first words, softening the blow of his anger.

“Did I not tell you not to trust Lord Dagen?” He paced from one end of the bathroom to the other, and Bree sunk a bit lower into the bubbles. Had he somehow found out what she had done to get her living quarters rearranged? And, if so, what would he do with her now?

“He didn’t think it was right for me to live in a cage. It was difficult to disagree with him on that.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “So, you asked him to move you? Behind my back?”

“No,” Bree said slowly. “He came to me. I couldn’t go to him because I was locked in a cage, remember?”

“Bree. He’s dangerous.”

“So are all the Dark Fae.” Bree shrugged, sloshing the bubbles around the water. “He said he could get me better living quarters, and who was I to complain? It wasn’t like you were about to do it for me. Why would I turn him down?”

“I cannot believe this. What is he playing at?” He stormed from one end of the bathroom to the other again. “I will tell you one thing. When I become King, the council’s orders will no longer take precedence over mine. And I will put you right back into that cell.”

“Well, then I certainly cannot wait until your coronation, my Prince,” Bree said dryly. “Please, do tell me who I need to assassinate for you so that you can take the crown more quickly.”

He stopped pacing at that, glaring down at Bree with an intensity that took her breath away. Taveon rarely showed much emotion other than a flicker of irritation or disdain. But he was boiling now, his fire stoked by both Dagen and herself.

“You do not know who you are dancing with, Bree. This is a mistake. One I fear you are sorely going to regret.”

Bree’s heart thumped hard. “Why? Are you going to do something to make me regret it?”

She didn’t know why she’d just said that. Taking Lord Dagen’s living quarters might be dancing with danger, but speaking to Taveon this way was jumping straight into the fire.

Taveon took a step closer to the bathtub, his eyes blazing. “Be careful, Bree. Just because I have been kind to you does not mean I will continue to do so.”

She snorted. “Kind? You think that’s kind? Maybe I really wasn’t wrong about the Dark Fae if that’s what is considered kind. Locking me up in a cage. Shooting me when I don’t obey. Forcing me to come here to become your assassin.”

“You volunteered.” His jaw flickered. “If you had told Princess Norah that you did not want to come here, you know she never would have let it happen. You came here willingly. Do not try to deny that now that you think you have a Lord on your side. Do you know anything about Dagen? Or did you just accept these quarters from him without considering what he might want from you in return?”

Bree flicked her gaze away, unable to look at Taveon. She hated that she felt so guilty about spying on him for Dagen. And she hated that she felt guilty for feeling guilty. Neither of them deserved her loyalty. Neither of them were truly on her side. They just wanted something from her. They both wanted to use her for their own gain.

And she hated that she had no other option than to go along with all of it.

“This water is getting cold,” she said by way of response. “I’d like to get out now.”

The truth was, the water still felt boiling hot, though maybe that was just her body’s response to this conversation and to Taveon’s presence in the room while she was naked in the tub. The bubbles were starting to melt away. If he stayed much longer, he would soon get much more than an eyeful.

“You will get out when I say you get out,” he said, practically shouting the words. “You forget yourself once again, Bree. You are not a guest here. You are my servant. My slave. You will do as you are told or I will be forced to do something about it.”

“What, like shoot me again?” she barked, grabbing a towel from beside the tub and standing straight up from the water, not even thinking about what she was doing.

Taveon’s eyes went wide as she frantically clutched the towel around her naked body. Water was splashing everywhere, and rivulets streamed down her skin. She didn’t even care. She was far too angry at him to worry about how much skin she was showing. She couldn’t just sit in a tub and listen to him carry on and on about this slave nonsense.

“Yes,” he said, though he sounded almost as if he had forgotten what they’d been talking about. “That is precisely what will happen if you do not obey me.”

“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes. “How about you punish me right now then? Go on then. Get it over with.”

She threw up her hands to emphasize her words, and her towel slipped completely from her fingers. It fell into the bathtub with a splash, leaving her standing there in nothing but her birthday suit. Her cheeks flamed, and she fought the urge to hide behind her hands. But she didn’t hide herself, not even from him. Any show of weakness would only be another win in Taveon’s column, not hers.

Taveon’s cheeks looked as red as a sunburn, and he cleared his throat as he glanced away, his eyes going from the wall to the door, to anywhere but Bree. “I cannot have this conversation with you when you are like that.”

“Then can you hand me a dry towel please?” she asked, her voice coming out much more choked than she’d intended.

Taveon bustled about, still keeping his eyes very firmly fixed away. He found another towel in the bedroom’s wardrobe. As he pressed the material into her hands, their skin brushed. Bree’s entire body zeroed in on the contact, and her back snapped tight. Taveon finally risked a glance her way, swallowing hard as he met her eyes. Something strange passed between them then, something Bree couldn’t make sense of. Almost like...a connection, a spark, an understanding of who they both were.

But then Bree snatched the towel away, draping it around her body. That was ridiculous, she thought to herself. There was no connection with Prince Taveon, except for the one that was full of neverending hatred. She’d only felt that strangeness with him because of the situation. It wasn’t every day that you found yourself bathing in front of an attractive male.

Not that he was attractive. At least not as a total package. Sure, he was easy enough on the eyes but that was it.

He was an asshole. One Bree wished she never had to see again.

“Right.” He took a step back, clearing his throat as he did so. “I will need to converse with my fellow council members about this and speak to Lord Dagen personally. Do not get too comfortable in here, Bree. You may not call this room yours for much longer.”

She made a face at his back as he stormed out of the bathroom. And then he turned to glance over his shoulder just in time to catch it. Irritation flickered across his dark features.

“Lord Dagen is not one to hand out gifts without expecting something in return. Careful, Bree.”