Apprentice - Bonus Snippet in Darren's POV: after the dance in the ballroom

(takes place near end of Ch 10, right after Darren dances with Ryiah)

Why had he asked her to dance? Darren knew it was a mistake. And what's worse, it wasn't enough. Holding Ryiah in his arms would never be enough. Gods, hadn't he realized that in the desert?

He loved her, and he hated himself.

He stared after her, watching her climb the Academy stairs. What he'd do to give into this crippling madness, just this once...

He didn't want to like this girl. It was an infatuation. He recognized the symptoms, the way he made excuses just to get close. He said things just to infuriate her, to watch her flush red. His hands balled to fists whenever Ian was anywhere near. And he couldn't let her go.

Even now, when Priscilla was confronting him with the truth.

"Don't you dare go after her!" she seethed. "You can never give her what she wants."

And Darren knew that well. It was the reason he'd stayed away, as best he could, for the last year and a half. But who wanted to play the knight in shining armor? It didn't win him any metals and Ian had mastered the role for them both.

Darren was tired of playing nice. He was going to go after the one thing he wanted. Consequences be damned.

Darren handed the raven-haired beauty his drink. "Have another glass for us both."

"You're despicable."

He didn't bother to deny it; Darren was already ascending the stairs.

There was a heavy pounding in his chest; thuds grew heavier with each step, and for all his bravado in front of Priscilla, his heart was in his lungs.

Then, he saw her. At the end of the hall, half-shrouded in the castle sconce's flickering light.

This was it. He wouldn't hesitate now.

"Ryiah!" His voice caught as he started to run. "Wait-"

The girl whirled around. There was something in her eyes.

The prince caught her against the wall, slamming her against mortar and stone. He didn't wait for her protest, he couldn't bear the words. His lips found hers, and there was a charge. A thrumming pulse, an explosion, violent and red.

Ryiah. Any sense of control was shattered in an instant. Hunger and desperation took ahold of his lungs. It didn't matter what he wanted, he needed to get this girl out of his head before she drove him to madness, and so he kissed her harder.

But she was intoxicating and blinding as the sun. The further he pushed, the deeper she pulled him in. She was burning brighter than anything he'd ever seen. Every touch was ice and wildfire; a contradiction that made him feel alive.

He'd come here to end this, and instead she'd sealed their fate.