It was first light when the Prince stormed out of his room, his face flush with rage. Whistling, Ren followed after him, smiling beneath her mask, massaging Altair's vicious bite over her wrist, wrapped in bandages, and somewhat light-headed.
"You think if I only ate mangoes and pineapples, my blood might taste differently?" she teased, finding his current expression cute. There had only been a handful of times she'd ever seen him angry. This was a new face. One she found fascinating. Altair was always calm, always poised, with a bearing of a lord, but today… Today, he bore furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, curled lips, and a set of tensed shoulders. Ren took it all in, turning the corner when, without warning, Altair snatched her, shoving her against the wall, glaring her down.
He tore off her mask, peering into her enchanting red eyes wet with a silver mist, and his heart began to hammer like drums against his chest.
