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

I blink. There are similar noses carrying from Juilliard's tent too. Noises I hadn't really heard until now. What is this? What is our campsite turning into?

"Oh." I take a step away.

"Did you get your stitches looked at?"

"Hedda helped me fix them back up. She's got a pretty steady hand."

He lowers his gaze to his lap where he fiddles with his fingers. Curls fall forward into his face. I want to touch them, run my fingers through them to see if they're as silky as they look.

"That's good," he says, more to himself than to me.

Half of me expects that he'll ask me to apologize for taking it too far earlier. Maybe I should... I won't. But I should.

"Did I..." he continues, "Did I wake you?"

I purse my lips together. "No. Just woke up and thought I’d stretch my legs."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"No." I shake my head and take another step away from him. Away from this conversation, away from the smell of sex on the air that sparks like electricity off of me.

"That's good too."

I'm out of answers. Out of the will to dance around what I know just happened out here. Out of time before I lose all sense and climb into his lap and ask him to touch me just the way he described earlier.

"Okay, Marcello," I rasp, barely able to give a nod before I turn and walk away.

Fires are still lit at four of the team's campsites. The fluorescent warehouse lights that are usually lit above have been dimmed so that everything remains dark. I don't stop walking until I reach the trickling river. I don't stop moving. I can't stop moving for a second or I might just shatter. This shouldn't hurt like this. I shouldn't feel physically sick.

I peel back my socks and kick them away. My thumbs hook into the band of my pants, tugging down the fabric until I'm just standing in a pair of the lacy underwear that was packed for me.

"Fancy meeting you here. Didn't realize we were letting the Human just wander the camp so freely. Shouldn't someone be keeping you on a leash?" A familiar voice calls.

I freeze, holding my pants in my hand. The soft brush of a breeze trails between my legs, leaving me feeling more naked than I actually am. Honestly, I'd planned to be more naked than this. Until now.

"Had to get away from your teammates? Still full of that tension, judging by the scent you just can't stop putting off." Jefferson strolls out of the nearest shadow. How long had he been standing there?

"What are you doing here?" I glance down at the running waters I'd intended on getting in, regardless of Juilliard's warnings to keep the stitches dry. Sighing, I hold the pants in front of me.

"Hiding."

The closer he moves the better of a view I have of him. All the dirt and debris from the challenge today has been washed away. Like everyone else, he's stripped himself of all the layers we wear to compete, the layers to keep us protected. His chest is bare, the long strands of black hair falling over his shoulders and down his back. Jefferson tucks his hair behind one ear and slips his hands into the pockets of his loose brown trousers. Even his feet are bare.

"What could you possibly be hiding from?" I stoop lower, meaning to slip my legs back into my pants and resign myself to feeling awkward somewhere else.

Jefferson leans forward. "Well don't get dressed on my account. I actually much prefer you this way." A smile both wicked and cruel lifts wide across his face. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m the prince? I already know you’ve questioned Mavi.”

“Would you tell me if I did?”

“The Elves are all spellbound in one way or another. We couldn't tell you who the prince is even if we wanted to. Anyway, to answer your first question, it looks like quite a few of the teams have let their women loose to all the Elven males in this camp. Some scheme to find the prince, I guess. But you're not out here to seduce me, are you?"

I straighten. "That was not my intention. No."

"Maybe you should."

The air turns hot in an instant.

I arch an eyebrow, unable to hold in the grin that tempts me. "Seduce you?"

His hair falls forward into his face as he tips his head in agreement and hums. "You're already halfway to naked."

My eyes drift off from his muscular form back to the way I'd come. No one in my camp is going to meet my needs tonight. I pull my gaze back up to his face. I whisper, but there is no mistaking that he catches every single word. "I don't think I need to seduce you. You're already interested. Desperate, even."

I let go of my pants, letting them pool at my feet. The tents nearest us curved away from the river, allowing privacy for those who wished to bathe. It gives us the illusion that we're alone.

If it had been any other moment of any other day, I wouldn’t have allowed Jefferson a moment of my time. He’s too cruel to be worth even a conversation. But isn’t cruel what I’m looking for now?

"Interesting, coming from a woman whose panties are already soaked." Jefferson closes the space between us, reminding me of his anger earlier. He curls his fingers underneath the hem of my shirt, pulling it up slowly. A new white bandage covers my ribs and he avoids it with a gentleness I couldn't fathom him even having.

"Humans are only good for two things," he repeats, "Sacrifice, and fucking." He drops the shirt on top of my pants. The