“What… Laurel—you’re okay, thank the aether,” Carex pants, clearly confused but trying to pull his thoughts together quickly. “The Velmaran Prince—he was here, and I think he was trying to break into your rooms. He was up to something. He and his so-called advisors… we fought… and then—where am I?”

“I was trying to break into her rooms,” Thorne replies from across the room with more haughty arrogance than I’ve ever heard come from his lips. Carex stiffens, then looks from me to Thorne.

“It’s okay, Carex,” I say. “I was in some trouble, and Thorne was only trying to help me. He did, and all is well now.” Carex looks like he doesn’t believe me, lips pursed in a half-sneer. He stands, swaying with what is probably a concussion. He and Thorne stare each other down with looks of mutual loathing.

“Thankfully your meddling did not prevent me from saving Her Majesty,” Thorne spits at Carex with a formal and princely air.

“I’m sorry you were injured,” I say to appease Carex as I turn him toward the door. “Please, go see a healer right away. And I’ll speak with the Velmarans about their tactics for aiding me. While their intentions were in the right place, their actions were questionable.” Carex hesitates at the door, not wanting to leave me alone with Thorne. “All is well, Carex. Please, go,” I say gently. He looks like he wants to say something more, but with a growl from Thorne he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

The instant Carex is gone, Thorne’s at my side again. He presses me against the door, one arm up and body crowding mine like the night of the Solstice dinner. This time, I feel no conflicting emotions, able to fully appreciate the feel of his hard, strong body pressed against mine.

Thorne leans down and whispers in my ear. “Are you really going to speak with me about my tactics, witchling? I can think of much more exciting things for you to do with your mouth.” My blood heats, imagining some of those very things.

I lean into him, eyes ablaze. “As long as you are sufficiently punished, the method means little to me.” The words surprise me. Who is this person flirting with Thorne, because it can’t be me. I’m not this witty. His eyes widen, and unbridled lust rips across his expression. He snares me between his arms and crushes my body with his.