Playing With Fire Read Online Free PDF

grated, the sound merry and amused.
    Wintras reached for one of the pastries, remembering Patin’s request. He wished there was a way for him to smuggle some out for the boy. Rall ate little, Zujan even less, the thin fingers picking. Wintras was starving, though, and ate hungrily.
    He had a new tactic now. He would kill Zujan with kindness. He would be polite and do as he was told and get strong and when the moon was full he would take as many of the slaves as he could and run. Of course, to do that he would have to look at the man.
    “Tell us a tale of your homeland, dear boy. Amuse my sweet Prince Rall.”
    Wintras smiled at Rall. “Well, my favorite tale has always been the one where the good boy defeats the evil king. Would you like to hear that one, Rall?”
    Rall’s eyes were wide, shocked. “I… Of course. Please.”
    Zujan chuckled softly. “That sounds like a lovely story. Do tell.”
    “Once upon a time there was a prin—a boy. Who was very good to his subj—neighbors.
    “Everything was good until the evil king showed up. The boy’s family tried to mollify the evil king with presents, but in the end, the evil king took the boy and hid him away in his castle.
    “The evil king wanted the boy to join him in his evil ways, but the boy wouldn’t succumb, no matter what the evil king did, and in the end, the boy escaped and the evil king died alone.”
    Zujan’s chuckle filled the room. “Oh, what a gloomy story, my sweet pet. How about this one? Once upon a time there was a spoiled prince whose parents left him with a clever ally to gain an education. He learned his limitations and then, after offering himself willingly and easily, returned home to his father.”
    Wintras glared at his plate, still refusing to look at Zujan. “I have asked you, quite politely, not to call me pet. As for your story? As arrogant as you are.”
    “Ah, yes. Not my pet. My sweet beauty. My prince. My dear boy. Which do you like, Prince Rall?”
    “I always preferred pet, my Lord.”
    Wintras shook his head, wondering if he had bought the wrong man’s freedom with his subservience. He would have liked to have freed Patin. “I prefer prince.”
    “My prince? It has a ring.” Zujan made a clucking noise. “Look at me, my prince.”
    His hands turned to fists, but he had given his word to submit, to obey, and Wintras was true to his word. He turned to Zujan, letting his loathing show in his eyes.
    Zujan’s eyes were black, shining. “You have sworn to do my will, my prince. I will have you, every bit of you.”
    The man was beautiful. Cold and heartless, brutal, but beautiful. Wintras would not be swayed by beauty. “I will submit, Zujan, but you will never have my heart or my soul. My respect and my love are reserved for those who deserve them.”
    “I have no use for your heart. Only your body and your obedience.”
    Rall whimpered.
    “Good because that is all you will ever have, and never given willingly, only to save another.” He pet poor Rall’s arm.
    “Of course. Our dear martyr.” Zujan plucked a grape from the table, slowly eating it.
    “If I am a martyr it is only because you make me one.” He was not noticing how red Zujan’s lips seemed against the perfect pale skin, how the man’s tongue played with the grape before it disappeared behind now-wet lips. No, not at all.
    Little firefaeries sprang up, dancing upon the food, the colors bright and stunning. He watched them, transfixed. These were the little firefaeries that had wreaked havoc at the ball, and yet…they were so beautiful. They seemed to dance, to twirl and spin and bounce over the table.
    As if possessed, he reached out toward one.
    Rall jerked, grabbed his hand. “They burn!”
    He blinked, looking at Rall and then at Zujan. “The tarts—they’re drugged, aren’t they?” he accused.
    “Pardon me?” Zujan honestly looked confused.
    “You didn’t eat any of them. You’re drugging me.” It was the only explanation for the way