The ruler of Nightshade—Grimshaw—turned to face her. He looked her over quickly. Was he sizing her up? Deciding how he would make her suffer?
She swallowed. Took a step back.
He lunged for her.
Isla should have grabbed her dagger, but she was more shocked than she had ever been in her life, so she froze.
Froze as he pressed her against the wall, and—
He ... he lowered his face until his lips were mere inches from hers. His eyes were hungry, full of desire. He wanted to kiss her. That didn’t make any sense.
Suddenly, all the pieces came together. Why the women in line looked so excited. Why they were speaking of hopingto be chosen. Becomingpart of the ruling line.They had all clearly volunteered to be presented in front of the Nightshade ruler. He thought she wanted this. He thought she hadsigned upfor this.
He didn’t know who she was.
She could have pushed him away. Told him the truth. But she didn’t. She was a fool. That had already been established, hadn’t it? Her entire life, she had been locked up. She had never been this close to a man before. She had neverfeltthis way before.
His hands, so large, so callused, gripping her so strangely. Hisheight. His eyes, dark and gleaming.Hungry.His hard body, pressed against hers, his muscles and her curves lining up so naturally. Those seemingly unimportant things—much less important than who he was, and what kind of weapons were inches away from her—became all she could think of. She went very still.
For a moment, she forgot herself. And him. She forgot everything she had ever been taught.
“Is this okay?” he asked, looking down at her. He was leaning lower, his breath grazing her lips. A shiver worked its way down her spine.
This was her chance to say no. Instead, she found herself saying, “Yes.” And meaning it.
Then, his lips were on hers.
Isla had never been kissed. Didn’twantto be kissed by her enemy, her rival, the filthy, deadly—surprisingly attractive—Nightshade. Then why had she said yes? She should push him, say something, but his lips were a key, unlocking things she had never felt. Heat, pulsing everywhere. Sparks, dancing across her skin, as his thumb pressed against the palm he held against the wall. As his teeth skimmed her lips, as his lips dipped down her neck ...
She kissed him back. She held him just as tightly as he held her.
Her hands ran through his hair, and it was so much softer than she would have imagined. She felt her way down his neck, his chest, and he felt hard and cold as stone. His tongue swiped against the hollow of her throat, and she made a sound that shocked her.
Sensing her excitement, he made some sort of growl and hauled her up, against the wall, as her legs locked around his middle. She gasped, because in this position, she couldfeelhim ...allof him. Right against her. Right against her—
All at once, she remembered herself.
Remembered who he was, how she needed to get out of therenow.
He was her enemy. The moment he found out who she was, he would hurt her. This could be a trick. Surely, he was going to attack her at any moment.
She needed to strike first.
Just as he deepened their kiss, she grabbed her dagger from where it was holstered on her thigh. Gripped its hilt.
And stabbed him through the chest.
There was a moment of quiet. The Nightshade ruler met her eyes, right before his chin dipped, and he slowly looked down to his chest, where the dagger still stuck out, inches from his heart.
Then, he released her.
There was no time. No time to turn around, to check if the warmth across the front of her body was shame or fear or his blood.
She ran out the door, grabbed her starstick, which somehow, mercifully, now glowed.
She drew her puddle of stars—
And was gone.
