Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) by Rebecca Grey (electric book reader TXT) 📕

kicking his feet with every step. His half-crooked smile and the way his eyes pin on me holds me still as I wait for what he'll say next. "We do have one other option."

"And?" Hedda steps next to me. Does she feel the way Marcello turns predator too? Every step he gets closer claws sink into my abdomen, gripping and twisting tight.

His muscles shift under his warrior’s garb. I clench my thighs. Marcello's grace conceals the monster underneath. I want to undress him. Unleash him.

"No." The word comes out short and clipped and far too fast.

His smile widens. "It seems this climb requires someone with a very specific set of skills." He steps closer and I can feel my heart leap into my throat. "You."

"What's the Human going to do?" Sloane slides her gaze to me.

"Why don't we just try Finnegan's arrow thing first? I'm sure it'll hold." I shrug with a mock casualty.

"No. Can you…Can you make this climb, Nilsa?" Finnegan asks. "'I'd rather conserve my arrows. This event only gets bloodier the further we go."

I look to Juilliard. He sits quietly, holding his bones in place. His face a stark white against the shadows surrounding him. Of all of them, Juilliard should be on my side on this one. He doesn't trust me to do crap, much less be the one that our team depends on. I've already failed them twice with my pride. I can't do it again. I won't do it again. Juilliard just stares back, tight lipped and without argument. Whole lotta good that does me.

I lift my chin slowly, looking back up at the climb ahead. Can I make that climb? Yes, I probably can. And Marcello knows I probably can. Did he see me cling to the slight unevenness of the stones of the wall between The Bend and The Oasis? Had he known I was coming long before I actually made it to the top?

Warmth circles my hand. My arm raises and a fire licks up my body at his touch. Marcello cups my hand in his. I stare down at my fingers laid carefully in his palm. The touch makes my chest ache and I can't tear my eyes away. The smallest, simplest form of physical contact making me suddenly aware of how badly I want to be held. Especially now. Especially in the middle of all of this fucking mess.

I lift my gaze. "I can make the climb."

His perfect white teeth sink into his bottom lip. The press of his hands against mine as his grip tightens makes all my muscles go taunt. "And that's why I picked you, love."

"Once I make it to the top and toss down the rope, you'll have to carry up the gimpy one." I point to Juilliard. His eyes remain closed, but he lifts his hands and gives me an obscene gesture that makes me smile.

"I think I can handle that." His hand drops from mine and my gaze follows it to his side. Whatever this is, this needy thing inside of me, I don't like it. I didn't ask for it and I don't want it. Nothing needs to exist between Marcello and I. Nothing should exist between us.

Marcello holds his hand out to Finnegan who's already worked to untie the rope from his weapon. He winds the rope again and again from his fist to his elbow until it's worked back into a manageable hoop.

"Undo your belt and I'll slip this on for you and you're all ready to go." He points to my hips.

I peel my shirt up. A slender trickle of blood pools in my bandage and in the clear wrap Juilliard forced around my ribs. The Elf doesn't say a word about it, but his teeth grind together in an almost audible crunch.

I force my fingers not to tremble as I undo the leather that holds my dagger to me. Keeping it snug against my body, I hold out one open end and Marcello slips the rope on. His fingers gently grazing the skin just over my hip bone. The rope pats against my thigh, a new weight added. His hands slip away from my skin too quickly and I find myself still thinking about every touch.

As if this is the time, I curse myself. As if ever is the time.

Maybe that fall had done something more to me. Maybe that fall had scared the sense right out of me. Or perhaps it's the way that I thought my life was finally ending that makes me feel like right now... Right now I want to live. I want to live for more than the climb of this event, for more than just being the puppet that pulls the trigger on the prince and the king. I want to love, laugh, and find some fucking way to be happy too.

I can't dwell on that now. So I ignore the way my heart skips a beat and my skin hums where Marcello's fingers touched. I slide the leather belt back into place. It takes all of me not to look back at Marcello, not to look at any of them.

Circling the bottom of the pit, I run my hand over every bump of the surrounding walls, searching up and down to find a pattern in the rocks. A pattern that I can mostly easily climb. Even the spaces where each jutting rock from the wall is a stretch, I'm confident I can make it. Hell, if Finnegan is willing to get rid of his arrows I might even have been able to scale just the thick mud using those to leverage my weight.

I stop, curling my fingers around the first stone in my reach. Muscles tense through my arms, across my shoulders and down my back. Hoisting myself up with my upper body strength alone, I stretch for