"You don't get to choose," he said through his snarl, the words vibrating with the force of the growl in his throat. "Until our time is up, you're mine, whether you accept it or not."

With one wing-hand, he reached forward and dragged his fingers through my hair, pulling it out of its carefully-pinned updo. He tightened his fingers, pulling my hair so that my head fell back, and drawing another whimper out of me as heat flooded my body. Dain never touched me like this, not in public and not in private. But he did it now, putting on a show of aggressive sexual possessiveness, turning his public affection into nothing more dangerous than an attempted seduction.

I liked the way he was touching me. A lot. But there were dozens of eyes on us, and I didn't like getting blindsided like this.

"Dain, what the fuck are you doing," I bit off, flushing red. I didn't know what conversation we were supposed to be having, but by that hungry smile on his face he was pleased.

"Showing everyone that we're still soulmates," he snarled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"You can't do this," I said, shaking with anger. "Don't do this."

"I'm the crown prince of Stag Court, soulmate," Dain said mockingly, putting his face right up in mine, his chest brushing against me. "Who's going to stop me?"

"Me, asshole," I snarled into his contemptuous face, and rammed my knee up between his legs with every ounce of rock-climbing muscle I had.

Dain didn't drop me or drop to his knees. A visible wave of unhappiness rolled over him, his wing-arms flexing out to the side, his shoulders and neck tensing, and his face turning into a mask of disbelief and what looked like violent nausea. He shuddered to a frozen halt, not even breathing.

He didn't let me go.

I broke his nose.

I rammed my forehead into his stupid face like I was doing a header on the soccer field, and felt the bone snap in the moment before pain flashed across my head from impacting his skull. It probably wasn't the best way to do it, but his arms were in the way of my hands, and my head was right there.

Dain reeled backwards, blood pouring out of his nose. It got all over my face and torn dress, all over him, and all over the floor, red and accusatory. Everyone started visibly backing up as Dain staggered. He took a wide stance with his wing-arms held in dangerous arcs and his tails slashing through the air, staring at me with something like animal rage glittering in his eyes, but with an expression on his face that looked more akin to pride.