Defy by Sara B. Larson Read Free Book Online

Even the unwavering eyes of the prince couldn’t
    shake me. Not visibly anyway. But no amount of control could
    keep my pulse from quickening.
    “I hear there was a death during last night’s pursuit.” Prince
    Damian tilted his head.
    “Yes, Your Highness.”
    “One of my personal guard?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Someone important to you, Alex?” He lifted a hand, exam-
    ined his perfectly trimmed nails. Hands that had never seen work,
    never gripped a sword or loosed an arrow. He had the perfect build
    for fighting, tall and lean, but it was wasted on him.
    “My brother, sir.” I clenched my jaw, looking down at the
    ground in an effort to maintain my composure.
    “Your twin, if I recall?”
    “Yes, sir.” Was he trying to drive the pain deeper? “The attack-
    ers were all taken down, Your Highness.” Keeping my voice low
    had become second nature to me, but I always had to work harder
    to make it sound natural when I was under stress.
    “Very good.” He paused. “Always duty first with you,
    right, Alex?”
    “Sir?” I couldn’t keep myself from glancing at him brief ly. He
    looked up from his hand at the same time, so that our gazes met.
    There was something in the depths of his eyes, an echo of my own
    grief — an unexpected empathy — that made my breath catch in
    my throat. The intensity of his gaze — this wasn’t the way a prince
    looked at just another member of his guard.
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    “I had a brother, too,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine, his
    voice strangely soft. A f lash of unmasked pain crossed his face. “I
    kept a stiff upper lip when he died as well. I’m . . . I’m impressed with your dedication to me and my safety.”
    “It’s my duty, Your Highness.” My voice came out unsteadily
    and I hurriedly clamped my jaw shut. In the year since I’d won a
    position on his guard, I’d never heard him speak of his brother.
    His unexpected admission brought my own grief far too close to
    the surface. It took all of my willpower to force the emotion back
    down, to keep control.
    Prince Damian watched my battle silently. “Alex.” He took a
    halting step toward me. “Must you always pretend — even with me?”
    Despite all my training, I could feel the shock on my face, the
    sudden fear, and he froze with his hand partially outstretched to
    me. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears, I wondered how he
    couldn’t hear it as well. What did he mean? There was no way
    he knew my secret — it wasn’t possible. Was it? Panic made my
    throat constrict. He had to be referring to trying to hide my grief
    about Marcel’s death. That was all. I had to remain calm. Breathe.
    In and out.
    With a sudden shake of his head, Prince Damian waved his
    hand in the air and in the space of a heartbeat, his normal, apa-
    thetic expression slid back into place. “Well, as you said, it is your duty to attend to my safety. I’m fortunate indeed to have such a
    dedicated soldier in my guard.” He paused and the knot of terror
    in my chest slowly ebbed away. He wasn’t going to accuse me of
    being a girl — I wasn’t going to be thrown into the breeding
    house. Prince Damian raised one eyebrow. “However” — his nor-
    mal, condescending tone of voice returned as well — “I really wish
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    you hadn’t killed the attackers. They could have proven informa-
    tive. Next time, just maim them.”
    My blood pulsed hot through my veins as I forced myself to
    give him a curt nod. The strange conversation, the look he’d given
    me, they had to have been because of Marcel’s death. I had no idea
    what had just happened — had it even been real? The prince show-
    ing empathy, acting like he cared? Maybe it had been a grief-induced
    hallucination. For one brief moment, I’d wondered if he might be
    playing a part, too. It had never occurred to me that he might
    be as trapped as I was. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
    I couldn’t afford to entertain ridiculous thoughts like that. Not
    about