Clara
Prince Marcus pressed me against the wall. I struggled against his grip, but he was too strong.
“If you know what’s good for you,” he hissed, “you’ll sit still and be quiet.”
Then he leaned back and chuckled. “Oh, wait, you don’t have any choice, do you? You have to be quiet.”
I glared, but he was holding my wrists so I couldn’t sign. It didn’t matter, though. Prince Marcus didn’t understand my signs. I doubted he’d have the patience to let me write my response on his hand, either.
He leaned back a little. “I’ve been thinking it over. Maybe having a mate who can’t talk back to me wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.”
I scowled at him. I no longer cared if we were fated or not. He was cruel and I would not accept him as my mate, no matter what he said.
“You look so angry,”
