Twenty-year-old Claire must deceive a vampire prince to infiltrate the monarchy and discover their secrets while resisting her desire for him.
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Nothing in my life has ever been easy. Including the mission my family has sent me on.
My sister and...
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Savoir (verb) to know
As soon as Bastien was gone, I snatched a throw pillow off the bed and hurled it at the door. I would've preferred to throw something much heavier at his smug face. Like a sword.
Too bad I didn't have one.
Breath coming in short pants, I searched for another pillow, intent on throwing something else, when I noticed the way the sash of my robe was tied. Not in a simple bow like I would've done.
My anger dissipated into confusion, and I set down the pillow to examine the knot closer. When I tried to undo it, I found I couldn't.
By Diana, it was the same knot Bastien had tied earlier. Some knot surely designed to keep prisoners from escaping.
Had he tied my robe again? I didn't remember that.
What else didn't I remember about our trip to the bathhouse?
I grew restless the longer I tried to answer that question and came up with nothing, so I forced myself to get out of bed, sidestepping broken shards of glass, splinters of wood, and porcelain dust, and lowered myself into the same chair Bastien had occupied by the fire.
I reached for glimpses of what had transpired while staring into the flames.
As hard as I tried to remember, there was nothing. Nothing...except. I lifted a trembling hand to my mouth, delicately tracing the outline.
There was no memory, only a strange feeling that we had...
I shook my head and lowered my hand. No. No. That wasn't real. I'd only dreamed our kiss. He wouldn't have kissed me for real. I wouldn't have allowed it.
As hard as I tried to convince myself that it hadn't happened, I still couldn't shake the strange feeling that his lips had touched mine.
A spark of something akin to excitement ignited in my stomach before anger had my hands curling into fists.
No, that wasn't possible.
I would never ask him to kiss me, no matter what my traitorous body wanted from him. No matter how badly I ached for his touch. He was forcing me to stay at an inn run by dark witches and demanded I allow one to clean my wounds.
In four days, my entire world had turned upside down, and I was doing things I'd never dared to think about. Staying in a den of darkness. Rooming with a vampire.
It was... disorienting.
To make matters worse, I was failing at the one thing my family trusted me to do: spy on Bastien.
Just thinking his name caused a torrent of emotions to churn in my stomach.
I knew I was supposed to be acting submissive and sweet, like a flower waiting to have its petals picked to lure him into trusting me—it's what Mama had told me to do—but at every turn, I was failing at that, too.
