Free Tear You Apart by Sarah Cross Page B

on his finger, imprinted with a crown.
    He was an underworld prince. And he was the only person, besides Viv, who was wearing black instead of silver.
    “Did you invite me?”
    The prince’s smile broke free again. “I did. Do you mind?”
    She wasn’t sure what to say.
    “I don’t get it.” She gestured to the crowd of dancing princesses and princes, and the twelfth princess in particular. “Don’t you have a princess already?”
    “The Twelve Dancing Princesses curse isn’t mine.”
    “Then … what
is
your curse? Why am I here?”
    “Why are you here?” He leaned in, so close she could see the silver flecks in his dark gray eyes. “You’re here because I got tired of waiting for you to die.”

CHAPTER TWELVE
    VIV’S PULSE POUNDED IN HER SKULL. Her mouth felt dry and the words came out shaky. “You can keep waiting. Because I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”
    She started away from him and he followed, the two of them weaving through the crowd of dancers. Running was impossible when every step in the glass shoes threatened to send her sprawling. She finally stopped to pry the mini black glass coffins off her feet and flung them under one of the benches.
    Barefoot, she kept going until she was out of the club, then at the edge of the hillside, her feet aching like every stone gave her another bruise.
    There were no gondolas on this side of the lake. No way back, except—maybe through the forest? Who knew what was in there. But it was better than swimming back.
    She started down the hill, picking her way carefully across the rocks—and the prince in the black tuxedo appeared, one ofher black glass slippers in his hands. Guests crowded into the alcove behind him, eager to witness the drama, and the prince turned sharply and ordered them inside. He seemed agitated; he held the shoe awkwardly, like it was the wrong prop—an embarrassing fairy-tale symbol of
the girl who got away
.
    Once they were alone, he said, “You didn’t have to run out like that.”
    “Stay away from me,” she warned, backing down the hill.
    He matched her step for step. “Vivian, please. Will you let me explain?”
    “No. I’m leaving.”
    When she reached the lakeshore, she turned and saw that two of the gondolas were halfway across the lake, each carrying two passengers. The prince raised his arm and signaled to the boatmen, who then began to row the other way.
    Viv tried to make another signal—a
get back here
wave—but the boatmen ignored her. The prince let the glass shoe fall to the ground, and sighed. It was too thick to shatter.
    “All I said was—”
    “What the hell was that?” She gestured to the retreating gondolas. “I want to go home, and you—”
    She stumbled back as he came toward her, the silver water splashing her legs as she stepped into the lake. Something rib-bony slithered around her ankle and she darted back onto the shore.
    It felt like a snake had wound around her calf, but she looked and saw that it was a dirty necktie. She kicked to fling it off her, but the wet silk clung to her skin.
    “Someone must have lost this.” The prince crouched to untangle the wet tie, then threw it into the lake, like it was anall-purpose dumping ground. “Don’t go in the lake if you can help it. It’s deeper than it looks.”
    “I’ve already been in there. The door the horseman took me through lets out underwater. I thought I was going to drown.”
    Alarm flickered across the prince’s face. “Well, if you come back—”
    “I won’t.”
    “If you come back, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bring you through that door again.”
    “Good,” she said. “Not that it matters.”
    She glanced at the boatmen on the opposite shore—the escape he’d denied her. “Are we done? Will you summon a gondola for me now? Or are you still hoping I’ll die?”
    “I never said I wanted you to die. I said I was tired of waiting for it. And I didn’t mean
real
death, I meant your enchantment. Your