6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Ariella
I turn when Caspian calls for me, halting mid weave. His head tilts as he scrutinizes every inch of my body before his expression settles on something warily. “You weave wards, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing. I’m unsure if he realizes the distance he’s closing between us as he idly steps forward. “So you possess the umbral strand…”
He speaks as if this is news to the both of us.
“I do not need a history lesson, prince. What is your point?”
“You use the absence of light—the shadows—to create them, do you not? Show me.”
I blink. “Show you what, exactly?” The click of his shoes stops, and his hands slide into the pockets of his pants. He watches me, not with his usual cocky smirk, but with warm eyes and a small tilt of his lips. As if I am something to be cherished instead of a product whose only value is to kill.
“Your shadows. Will you show me?”
“I—” I pause, unsure of how to answer that. See my shadows? I suppose sharing essence is not…uncommon; but aside from my parents, Caspian is the only person who knows I possess all three af finities. And even then, he has no idea that includes every single strand, as well.
But to show him my umbral strand?
I’ve never presented my forbidden essence to anyone . A brief ache in my chest points out the blatant lie. That circumstance was different from this one—I was dying from the griffin’s attack, not willingly giving him access to my most sacred secrets. I shift, crossing my arms as I look at anything but the prince.
The questionably rational, defensive part of me is desperate to lash out and deny everything he just said.
But there’s a fragile sliver of hope in my soul. A part of me that was lost the moment the life drained from my father’s body and soaked into the stone I now walk on. One that the prince—against my entire will—has exposed and nurtured until it was just bright enough for me to notice.
The part of me I ache to feed after having repressed every fucking bit of it for twenty years.
I want to show him my shadows—show him all the essence I possess. The thought of just sharing that secret with someone, with him, is already relieving in a way I didn’t know I could feel. An ache forms behind my eyes as the steel walls just under my skin retract a little more—an instinctual response to such feelings.
How could I even think about sharing this with him?
Especially after the years Marek spent training me to be the best and most secretive; he’s never truly known about my essence, but he’s far more intelligent than even I give him credit for. He knows . And after my mother and father begged me to keep such things hidden, dying for what I can only assume is the very thing Caspian is asking to see.
Fucking Angel, the air surrounding me has become significantly heavier.
I haven’t warred with such… feelings in so long that I’m unsure of what to do. I’m frozen, stuck in a loop of right and wrong.
But is it truly so wrong? To crave for just one Angel-damned person to carry some of the weight that’s been clinging to my shoulders for years? And is it wrong if I want it to be him?
No, it’s not.
At least that’s what I tell myself before allowing the brittle ‘okay’ slip through my lips.
I lead him into his room and remove my boots before crawling to the middle of his bed and sitting with my legs crossed. I nod my chin in front of me, directing him to mimic my position.
This goes against everything I’ve ever known. And yet…
Fuck it.
“Give me your hands,” I whisper, holding my palms out in silent invitation. Unlike mine, there is no hesitation in his movements as he wraps his fingers around my wrist. His skin is warm. Soft. The skin of someone who lived their childhood in royal privilege.
It’s exactly what I need to calm my raging thoughts and center my focus.
With one last look between his inquisitive eyes, I close mine and tug —
I barely touch my umbral strand before releasing it, wincing as I sink further into myself again.
I need to do this. No, I want to do this. And fuck if I’ll allow my past to dictate any choice I make.
No one tells me what to do. Not even myself, apparently.
After a few deep breaths, the heaviness in my chest lifts as my mind falls into the calm I thrive in during assignments. The kind of calm that pushes me forward and is confident instead of hesitant in all decisions.
I reach for my umbral strand once more and coax the shadows out from beneath my skin, relaxing at their cool touch. The hitch of the prince’s breath is the only encouragement I need to pull them out fully. I can't quite grasp how I feel as I open my eyes and take in his shocked expression in front of me. He watches the tendrils of my essence slide over my arms and around my torso, as if they are greeting me with the lightest of hugs.
I know they are not sentient, but there is certainly more to them than being just the absence of light that I bend to my will. They feel almost… full .
I absorb every small detail of Caspian’s reaction as the shadows drift to his hands and caress his arms. He seems to be in pure disbelief, laughing softly and watching as the essence studies him. My brows furrow. I didn’t expect him to be scared, but I also did not expect him to be so happy and open to forbidden essence touching him.
It is against his father’s laws, after all.
Laws that he’s been raised to one day uphold .
The shadows seem to have a chosen path, swirling around him playfully. The feel of the prince’s body is distracting as they mold to each ridge of muscle. I’ve always appreciated this little quirk about the shadows—they are almost an extension of me; as if I had extra limbs that I used to feel the realm around me. I send a tendril to capture his throat, tightening until I feel his pulse as a phantom of touch under my fingers. It’s beating almost as fast as mine.
But that’s not all I sense—no, there’s something…more? If the shadows had the capability to feel, I’d describe their current state as fondness. Their aura seeps with an air of familiarity, as if they recognize the human they’re exploring.
“This is incredible,” Caspian whispers to himself. His movements lock me in a trance as he pulls a hand back to run his fingers along the different tendrils circling him.
And what a sight it is to see.
Image of Ariella showing Caspian her shadows.
I clear my throat when heat builds deep inside my abdomen. I’m utterly fascinated by the view before me. I hadn’t considered how it would affect me to watch my essence slide across the prince’s body. To feel every detail they do—places that my own hands have yet to explore .
Caspian grins as he continues to dote on the shadows, and if I did not know any better, I’d suspect they were blushing at his attention. The areas he focuses on darken under his scrutiny, but they do not express any negative sentiments, so I leave them to explore.
I sweep a finger upward, coaxing a tendril to spread through his hair. I’ve always preferred my ethereal affinity to the others. The strands in those affinities weave essence from land and objects outside of my body, whereas those in the ethereal affinity weave from the essence that resides inside me; I’m unsure of where, though the humming—what I believe is my essence—feels to be as close to my soul as it could be.
That was a long and difficult lesson that I struggled with in the guild. Even as a child, I knew the importance of not exposing my ethereal affinity. So when the time came to train the essence listed on official documents, I took much longer than the other children to grasp that the strands I used did not weave from the essence inside of me. They came to life through the essence offered by the realm. Learning to weave entirely out of my body, relying on my surroundings, was disconcerting. Frustrating.
And sitting here with the prince, watching him marvel over the essence as if it hasn’t been the single most threatening thing about my existence, it feels almost the same. Frustrating, strange, overwhelming. Fuck, if someone told me before the competition that I’d be sharing such intimacies with the heir of Eldoria, I’d have slit their throat just for uttering such nonsense.
An unfamiliar sensation ripples through me .
“Ariella, I ca—” His sentence cuts off abruptly as I do something I’ve refused to for years.
Something I’m making a problem for the future, more rational side of me.
But right now? I need to do this.
I tug on my psionic strand and melt the essence into Caspian’s head the moment I catch his eye.
Don’t speak, I instruct his body, fascinated with the way his mouth continues to form words, but no sound leaves his lips. It’s almost amusing—the degree in which his eyes widen in my direction.
Ideas swirl through my head and… Oh. I never considered just how fun my essence could be.
My lip quirks in time with his rising heart rate. I’ve long wondered if others could feel my essence claiming their bodies as my own, though it seems not if Caspian’s reaction is to be believed. He’s looking at me as if he’s worried I will experience whatever ailment has overtaken him. His hands snap to his throat, and I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.
I desire to command his body and bend it to my will until he submits to me in the way he was born to do. His mind, his body, his soul—they’re mine. Created by the Angel itself to complement every jagged edge of my existence. He was made to worship every part of me, and I am deeply satisfied when I remember that he already does. His essence calls to me, calls for me, in the way it was meant to, Aether be damned .
I need to feel him. The writhing presence growing under my skin will not wait much longer. It demands we complete what has only been half-forged.
It takes not even a mere thought before my shadows wrap around his torso and drag his body back against the headboard. His immediate panic wars with the heat clouding his gaze as he watches me like I am the most fascinating creature he will ever see.
I am.
Shh , I call to his mind with the link I’ve created. Your panic is misplaced, Cas. I lean forward on my hands, crawling over his stiffening legs onto his lap. I sit straddling his thighs, close enough that our chests press together. I sigh at the relief inside me that’s been building from the distance between us. You know who I am, Aetarys…I would never hurt you , I whisper into his mind.
I lift a hand to trace my fingers down his cheeks before pinching his chin, forcing him to hold my stare. “Only the fools who would hurt you.”
You may speak , I drawl, amused when his mouth opens to do just that.
But I do not want his words. No, I want to taste the sounds I’m going to wring from his body.
I close the minuscule distance between our lips, melting into him when he moans just how I imagined. His hands slide over my hips and, though I crave his touch, my shadows encircle his wrists and flatten the full length of his arms to the headboard. I smile into our kiss when he tugs against his restraints, thoroughly enjoying the hardness growing under me. My hands run through his soft strands of hair and pull his head back. I chuckle when I find his wide pupils, puffy, wet lips, and heated cheeks.
Image of Ariella's shadows holding Caspian.
His brows scrunch. “Ariella,” he barely utters my name, just as breathless as me. I’m pleased with how much I affect him. “Your hair.” My gaze slides down to my breasts, already knowing what I will find but humoring him, regardless. Silver covers my chest, the strands emitting the faintest glow between the dark clothing we both are still wearing.
I need to fix the latter.
But I pause my focus on the buttons of his shirt when he manages to pull a wrist from one of my restraints. Yes —I need him here with me. His fingers trail through my hair, the cause of his confusion, moments before I see what I’ve been waiting for: the suppressed half of his nature awakening in his eyes.
“There you are,” I purr, my core fluttering over the responsive twitch of his straining cock. I cannot contain the need for connection much longer. “Caspian.” The name snaps him from his daze, and my hunger for him grows feral the moment those irises meet mine. “Your eyes,” I whisper, basking in the glowing rings of silver before diving for his mouth once more.
I invade his lips with my tongue roughly. My body is prepared to bury itself inside him and finish what we started mere weeks ago.
We’ve waited too long already. It’s not natural and pulverizes our bodies and minds each day we delay.
My fingers tug his head back until his neck is exposed to me. I lick from his lips to his ear before dragging my tongue down the crease of his throat until I reach the crevice that connects to his shoulder. My center clenches at the guttural moan that leaves him when I touch the sensitive spot, the sound radiating through my very soul and forcing me on. I gently lick the spot and smile into his reddened skin when he arches his head back even further.
Every nerve in my body ignites when I graze my teeth over his skin as they beg me to continue. I listen. My jaw clamps down on his neck, the taut skin aiding my need to break through it.
But I don’t.
My teeth are not quite sharp enough in this body to force through without immense pressure, and it takes me a few moments to realize I’m whining from the build-up of something I feel inside me. I need to release it. I must give it to Caspian, but I do not wish to harm him.
Before I can pull away, one of his hands connects with the back of my head, pushing me further into him. “Do it,” he mutters so quietly I almost miss the words over our heavy breathing. My stomach flutters—I could live in the desire seeping through his voice.
Any hesitations I had about hurting my prince melt away at his command, so there is no more time to waste. I bite. Hard. It takes more effort than I’d hoped, but Caspian’s hold on me is so tight that I know I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. The give of his skin is the catalyst for the deep, animalistic groans that fill the room.
I would not be able to confirm who is making what sound; I’m far too gone in the hot liquid that coats my tongue. In claiming him. My entire body shudders, and I almost come at the taste of his blood. My prince—so in harmony with every part of me—clutches my hips hard enough to bruise before grinding me down over his cock. But it’s not enough.
None of this is enough.
I pull my mouth back to capture his eyes. “I need you to fuck me.” My demand is a whisper over his lips, and I move to reach for the buttons of his pants only to wrap my hand around the length of his bare dick.
“What?” I mutter to myself before snapping my eyes downward.
How the fuck are we both naked? My head wars with itself, both sides fighting for dominance.
“It doesn’t matter, sit up,” the prince orders, forcing all questions to the back of my mind. I lift myself, allowing him to rub the head of his cock through my arousal before pausing at my entrance. His eyes hold mine as something playful and wicked flashes through their depths. “Now sit the fuck down.” I shiver from the possessiveness dripping off him.
Before I can comply, he snatches my waist and shoves me down until he’s buried to the hilt. My head drops back from the immense, overwhelming pleasure that radiates throughout my body. I have never felt like this before.
I eagerly follow his lead and slide him in and out of my core at the tempo he sets with his hands, his fingers trembling against my skin, though he holds tight. Honestly, I’m not sure I could pry his grip from me right now—he’s holding me as if his life will end the moment he lets go .
My eyes slide to the minute space between our gleaming chests, slick with sweat and something a little more delicious.
His blood , I remind myself.
Caspian glares at my breasts with an intense hunger, bending forward to catch a drop of crimson that must have escaped my mouth.
Pity—I wanted all of it for myself.
But that disappointment lasts for only a moment before the prince’s tongue slides up my breast to the crevice of my throat. A pounding need overcomes me, and I know that what he’s about to do will be more pleasurable than anything in this life. His thrusts increase, faltering slightly. It feels as though he cannot control his body—as though he has succumbed to the force of this moment, lost amongst the infinite amount of places our bodies connect.
“ Yes . Fuck, my prince, please ,” I beg, the sound ardent and desperate, and tilt my head back in complete submission. I have been waiting for this very moment for so long . Too long. And now it will finally be complete.
His teeth drag over my skin, and hair rises along my arms. The anticipation may ruin me. Bless the Angel, he does not make me wait long. His jaw opens and prepares to bite down; to take what we need to—
My eyes fly open as a piece of reality breaks through the haze. “Stop!” I shove at his chest, darting off his lap and crawling backward with my hands until I feel like I can breathe again. He makes no move for me, even as my shadows sink into his skin, releasing him—it appears we are both just as confused .
His wide, horror-stricken eyes meet mine for a heartbeat before they home in on my mouth.
Where his blood dries.
The blood I sucked from his neck.
Against every bit of my pleading stomach, I look down at his neck to find the small, round wounds I caused still oozing. The fucking wounds I ached to cause—the same ones Caspian begged me to cause.
I’m going to be sick.
I slap a hand over my mouth just in time to hold in the gagging. I fumble with the blankets on the prince’s bed, nearly shredding them into non-existence, and start running to his bathroom. The rate at which my abdomen is spinning…
I’m almost there, one hand still stuck to my lips while the other holds my breasts, lest I pull a fucking muscle running without support. I could heal it in a moment, but I’d rather not have something else to think about right now. The door to Caspian’s bedroom swings open, and Gavriel practically falls through the doorway, followed by another sentry.
I will never speak about how this is the first time in my life I have felt self-conscious of my naked body.
Gavriel’s jaw drops while the prince says words I cannot focus on. “What is going on? We’ve been trying to break down the door since I heard glass shattering! Whe—” The guard pauses his rant as he looks between Caspian and me, his face the picture of incredulity. “Did you fucking bite him? ”
I gag once more, turning toward the bathroom just as something wraps around my shoulders. A blanket, I think—a small kindness that I do not deserve. I barely reach the toilet before retching violently. Red liquid splatters against the porcelain, the sight of it causing me to heave even harder.
“What did she do to you, Caspian?” Gavriel’s shout is so loud I’m certain half the castle—no, half of Valoria—can hear him. “I’ll fucking kill her.” There’s a loud crash following the guard’s declaration, though I don’t look to see what has happened. My stomach is giving me a break, and I will rest my forehead against the cool tile on the floor until I die. There’s nothing left for me to do in this life if this is how I’ll feel.
Fuck, I sound like a whining child. But…have I ever been sick before?
My mind runs through years of memories, a needed distraction from the soul-consuming nausea that hasn’t been relieved by throwing up every organ in my body. I shift slightly—no, I have never once gotten sick. Especially not to the taste or sight of blood.
“You will not touch her, Gavriel. Take Benson to the pit with you.” Caspian’s calm, assured voice settles me a little. But not enough that I’m confident I could sit up without another round of my face in the toilet. “If you ever speak against her like that again, the pit will seem like a fucking blessing compared to what I will do to you. Leave.” Gavriel mutters several things too quiet for me to hear before barking at Benson to get out of the door. The slam of it startles me, but I keep my face pressed into the tile. How have I never appreciated the therapeutic effects of it before? It feels so nice .
It only occurs to me how ridiculous I must look curled up on the floor of Caspian’s bathroom when his footsteps get louder. “Ari,” he murmurs, his voice much softer than it was just moments ago. “Are you okay?” I peek through my lashes and find him crouching next to me with nothing but concern on his face. I can tell he wants to touch me, to comfort me in the affectionate way he’s so accustomed to, but doesn’t. Instead, he locks his fingers together and waits for something.
Oh, right, he spoke to me.
“I’m fine,” I croak, rolling to my back to look at him better. “Just nauseous, but it’s going away.” I take a deep breath, wincing. I need to clean my mouth—I taste disgusting.
Actually, if I’m being truthful with myself, the taste in my mouth is pure bliss. Something I could get addicted to.
It’s the realization that is disgusting. How in the Aether could I ever think the taste of blood is…
I cannot even finish that thought.
“Can you heal it?”
I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished speaking. “No, there’s nothing to heal other than my own revulsion of drinking—” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. I must stop thinking about it before I begin retching once again.
“My blood,” the prince breathes into the tepid air. I look over at him as he leans against the wall and slides to the floor. “What the fuck was that, Ariella? Why did you do it? And why did I want you to?” He grimaces, his face contorting to a wince when he runs his fingers along the bite I made.
“Do you think I know what just happened? As if I gallivant around ripping people’s necks open with my teeth?” He stiffens in my peripheral, sighing before relaxing once more.
“Well maybe I’m wrong, but you sounded like you knew exactly what you were doing. And then I suddenly was there, but not?” He says it like a question, one I have no answer for. I sit up and stand in one motion, reaching for the sink to rinse my mouth out. I don’t answer him, instead walking back into the bedroom in search of my clothes.
A memory flashes through my head of how confused I felt when we were clothed one second and naked the next. I have no recollection of removing anything.
I need to leave.
I need space to think .
My jaw drops, my stomach sinking further at the sight of his room. I pause, too aware of when Caspian halts mere inches behind me. “By the Angel,” he breathes, echoing the horror I feel in myself.
How did this happen?
Pieces of wood that were once the prince’s desk cover the floor. The blankets I struggled to leave just minutes ago are black, as if they’d been burnt through. My head spins as I look down and note the smeared soot across my thighs.
Each lamp attached to the walls is shattered, leaving behind only the mounts that can no longer do anything but darken my confusion. The tapestry above Caspian’s bed is unrecognizable—shredded to pieces, with only a few threads left hanging. I grimace at the state of his bed, the frame severely damaged and unable to hold the mattress any longer.
Now sit the fuck down.
It isn’t something I wish to acknowledge, but the memory of a faint cracking follows his words. Did we do this?
Stupid fucking question—who else would have?
I’m certainly in full control of my essence, having held him against the wall while we fucked, which makes everything I’m seeing even more unclear.
Something heavy settles at the front of my mind. I try, but fail, to grasp it. I cannot tell what it is, but it feels important. Like the reason all of this happened.
I back away from the devastation, heart racing, mind swirling like a tempest. The walls feel too thick, closing in around me, and I need to escape. “I can’t,” I whisper, the words barely escaping my lips as I turn and push through the door. The hallway outside is too quiet, shadows waiting in every corner, mocking me with their stillness.
Footsteps echo behind me—Caspian is following, his persistent presence a weight on my shoulders. “Ariella,” he calls, but I don’t stop. The need to find comfort in his arms is primal, clawing at me like a thing alive and hungry; and I will not allow myself to indulge again.
I storm toward my room, fingers brushing against the cool metal handle of my door as if it could provide solace .
“Ariella!” His voice sharpens into a commanding tone that feels foreign in this moment. “You can’t just leave without talking about this!”
I spin to face him, fury igniting under my skin like fire. “You think talking will change what just happened? That we can dissect our mess like some kind of twisted science experiment?” My voice rises above the plangent emptiness of the hall. “We destroyed your room! We—” Fuck, my eyes are burning. I swallow past the lump in my throat before finally meeting Caspian’s eyes and taking several breaths. “Can we talk in the morning?” I shouldn’t need his permission, but I want it, anyway.
The emotion in his gaze is heavy enough to weaken my resolve, but he moves before I can say anything else. Stepping forward, he grabs the back of my head and pulls me into his chest. I draw his scent into my lungs and let the simplicity of this moment calm me. He presses a kiss to the top of my head before stepping back to offer me a warm smile.
Suddenly all my eyes can think about is falling into bed—
“Your bed…it’s ruined.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. If you hadn’t noticed, there are hundreds of bedrooms here—I’ll be fine. Get some rest, angel.” He swipes his thumb down my lips before spinning back toward the destruction of his room.