16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Ariella
T he heat is unbearable today. Sweat drips down my neck as I circle Caspian on the training grounds, my muscles tensing with each calculated step. His silver eyes follow my movements, a predatory gleam flickering through them when I shift my stance. The prince has improved significantly since we began training together—though I’d never tell him that. He has an immense ego as it is.
“You’re favoring your left side,” he taunts, that insufferable smirk spreading across his face.
I narrow my eyes. “And you’re talking too much.”
He chuckles, the sound firing an unwanted wave of heat through my core. His chest rises with heavy breaths, sweat glistening along his skin in a way that shouldn’t be so fucking distracting.
I nearly miss his smile when he grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it aside with expert nonchalance. My jaw clenches—he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Getting warm, angel?”
Two can play at this game. I maintain eye contact as I strip my top off, leaving me in just my shorts and training bra. His pupils dilate, hands flexing at his sides. Good .
“Fucking Aether,” Gavriel mutters from where he leans against the stone wall. “Can you two not make everything sexual?”
I flip him off without looking his way, focusing on Caspian’s approaching form. “Jealous, brute?”
The guard scoffs but says nothing else. The tension between us has worsened since Caspian and I returned. Not that I give a fuck what he thinks of me.
“Focus,” Caspian demands, throwing a punch that I easily dodge. His bare chest brushes against my arm, and I bite back a groan at the contact.
This is going to be a long fucking day.
My blade meets his forearm as I spin past, just missing the kick he aims at my leg. He’s getting better at reading my movements—though his form is still shit. His shoulders tense when I shift my stance, preparing for another attack.
“Your balance is off.” The words slip from my mouth, and I curse under my breath. Fuck’s sake, I’m not here to teach him.
“What?” He straightens, dropping his guard. Foolish.
I sweep his legs out from under him, watching as he lands hard on his back with a grunt. “Never let your opponent distract you.” I press my boot to his chest, raising a brow when his hand wraps around my ankle. “Even if they’re trying to help your pathetic stance.”
His eyes darken as he yanks my foot, attempting to throw me down next to him. I allow myself to fall, using the momentum to roll and spring back up .
“My stance is not pathetic.” He pushes to his feet, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.
“Then prove it.” I circle him, noting how his weight shifts too far forward. “Stop compensating for your height by leaning into your strikes. Ground yourself properly and you won’t need to.”
He adjusts his footing, a determined look crossing his features. When he advances this time, his movements are more controlled. His fist grazes my jaw as I dodge—closer than he’s gotten before. Something flutters in my stomach.
“Better.” I catch his wrist and twist, a little surprised when he breaks my hold using a technique I showed him in the forest last week during our downtime. “Though your center is still vulnerable.”
“Stop analyzing me and fight,” he growls, throwing another punch that I dodge.
“I can do both.” I smirk when frustration flashes in his eyes. “What’s wrong, prince? Don’t like being told what to do? Don’t like that I refuse to grovel at your feet and tell you, you’re the best at everything?” I glance at his guard, winking when I find him already glaring in my direction.
He’s so fucking lucky Caspian won’t allow me to kill him. I’d have some fun before taking his sorry life.
A smile forms at the thought, and the prince’s answering grin sends heat coursing through me. “Thinking about violence again, angel?”
Gavriel makes a gagging sound. “I’m leaving before this gets worse. ”
“Good,” Caspian and I say in unison, neither of us looking away from the other.
The moment Gavriel’s footsteps fade, Caspian lunges. I spin away from his grasp, but he anticipates the movement and catches my arm. His chest presses against my back as he attempts to pin me, his breath fanning over my neck.
“Tired, darling?” His low voice sends shivers to places I do not wish to acknowledge at the moment.
I drive my elbow back, connecting with his ribs. He grunts but doesn’t release his hold. “You wish.”
Using his weight against him, I flip us both to the ground. We roll through the dirt, each fighting for dominance. His knee slides between my thighs when he pins me, and I bare my teeth at his triumphant expression.
“I win,” he purrs, leaning closer until his lips brush my ear. “What’s my prize?”
I buck my hips, throwing him off balance enough to reverse our positions. “You haven’t won shit.” I press my forearm to his throat, not hard enough to cut off his air, but enough to make a point. His hands slide up my thighs to grip my waist.
“No?” His thumbs trace circles on my heated skin. “Because from where I’m sitting, this feels like winning.”
“You’re not sitting,” I remind him, applying more pressure to his throat. “You’re lying in the dirt where you belong.”
He laughs, the sound vibrating through my body, shaking my arm. “Only because you put me here.” His fingers dig into my hips. “Tell me, Ariella…do you enjoy having me under you like this?”
“Shut up.” Childish response, but I feel so weak being this close to him. It fucks with my head.
“Give me a better use for my mouth, and I will.”
I lean down until our faces are inches apart. “Is that what you want? For me to shut that pretty mouth of yours?” I shouldn’t feed his taunts, but it’s impossible to not match his playfulness.
His pupils dilate further, eclipsing the silver. “I want a lot of things from you.”
The raw honesty in his voice tightens my chest. This isn’t part of our usual game. There’s a heaviness to his gaze, something that makes me want to run.
Instead, I press my lips to his.
He responds immediately, one hand sliding up my back while the other tangles in my hair. The kiss is rough and desperate, filled with all the tension we’ve been dancing around for weeks that doesn't seem to let up, no matter how many times we fuck. Waves of deliciously nauseating pleasure funnel through my abdomen, making my limbs wither under his attention.
His tongue slides against mine as a hand grips my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. The heat of his skin burns through my remaining clothes, making me wish we were somewhere more private. My fingers trace down his chest, memorizing every dip and curve .
Suddenly, he breaks the kiss and flips us over, pinning my hands above my head. His eyes are dark with desire as he smirks down at me.
“Now who’s in the dirt?”
My lips purse. “Not for long.” I buck my hips and twist, but his grip is strong. He’s learned too fucking well.
Or perhaps I do not care to get him off me as much as I want to believe.
“Frustrated, are we?” The man clearly wishes to die.
I manage to free one hand and slam it into his side. He grunts but maintains his position above me. We grapple, trading blows and holds until we’re both covered in sweat and dirt.
“For fuck’s sake, I leave for five minutes…” Gavriel’s annoyed voice cuts through our struggle.
I shove Caspian off me and spring to my feet, wiping dirt from my face. “Miss me already, brute?”
His response is a burst of essence that catches the side of my shorts, burning through the fabric. I glance down at the smoking hole now exposing my upper thigh, a giddiness tingling under my skin.
“These were my favorite pair, you jealous prick.” I brush off the charred remains. “Though I suppose I should thank you—they were getting a bit restricting.”
“Shut your fucking mouth for once,” he snarls, advancing toward me with his fists raised.
My answering smile is wicked. Finally, some real fun .
A drop of rain hits my cheek as Gavriel charges at me, his pyro essence blazing through the air. I duck under his attack, my feet sliding in the quickly dampening dirt.
“Come on, Gav. Is that all you’ve got?” I taunt, dancing away from another burst of flames. The rain intensifies, steam rising where his essence meets the water.
His dark eyes radiate a cold hatred. “You think you’re so fucking special.” He throws a punch that I barely dodge. “Walking around like you own the place, like you deserve him.”
I laugh, the sound harsh against the pounding rain. Caspian stands off to the side, arms crossed, with a concerned look etched in his features. I shake my head at him—he understands that this fight between me and Gavriel has been simmering for a while. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Gav.” My fist connects with his jaw, and he stumbles back.
Lightning flashes overhead as we circle each other. His usual controlled demeanor cracks, rage seeping through every movement. Good. I want him unhinged.
“You’ll get him killed,” he spits, launching forward with a combination of strikes I wasn’t expecting. One catches my ribs, forcing the air from my lungs. Fuck, he’s strong. “Everything you touch turns to shit.”
My shadows writhe under my skin, begging to be released. But I can’t—not here where anyone could see. Instead, I drive my knee into his stomach and flip over his shoulder, using his momentum against him .
He recovers after a moment, spinning to grab my ankle. I twist free but slip over the mud, giving him an opening to slam me into the ground. Rain pelts my face as I roll away from his boot.
“You know nothing about me,” I growl, sweeping his legs. He falls hard but rushes to kick up, catching my chin. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
“I know enough.” He wipes rain from his eyes. “You’re poison. And when he finally sees that—”
My blade appears at his throat before he can finish. His essence flares, but I press harder. “Careful. You’re not the only one who cares about him.”
The admission surprises us both. His eyes widen the slightest before hardening again. We stay locked in that position, rain washing away the blood on my lip as a storm crashes above us.
Thunder cracks again, and I use the sound to mask my movements as I sweep Gavriel’s legs once more. He catches himself before hitting the ground, flames erupting from his hands as he charges at me. I dance away from his attacks, my muscles burning with each dodge.
“You think you’re protecting him?” I taunt, blocking a particularly vicious strike. “You’re suffocating him with your pathetic devotion.”
His eyes flash with a dangerous threat—I thrive in it. “And what would you know about devotion? You’ve no family. Your only so-called friend is dead. You kill for money, for fun.” He spits blood onto the muddy ground. “You’re nothing but a murderer playing at being worthy of a prince. ”
The words sting more than they should. I slam my elbow into his face, satisfaction coursing through me when his nose crunches under the impact. “At least I don’t hide behind duty to excuse my feelings.”
That hits home. His essence flares, wild and erratic, the rain sizzling as it hits the flames surrounding him. “You fucking bitch—”
“What’s wrong, Gav?” I circle him, noting how his control slips further with each word. “Angry that he chose me? That he's probably sick of your protective facade?”
He roars, charging at me with reckless abandon. I sidestep his attack, but he anticipates the movement and catches my arm. The heat of his essence burns through my skin before I can break free. I wince but manage to keep in the pained sound wanting to escape.
“I’ve watched over him for years,” he snarls, throwing another punch that I duck around. “Protected him from people like you.”
I laugh, the sound dark. “People like me? You mean people who actually challenge him? Who see him as more than just the precious prince who needs constant coddling?”
“You’ll destroy him!” His fist connects with my jaw, sending me stumbling back. “Everything you touch turns to rot, and I won’t let that happen to him.”
Blood drips down my chin as I straighten. “Hate me all you fucking want—I don’t care. But you’re right about one thing.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I do destroy things. Care for a demonstration? ”
My shadows pulse under my skin, begging to be released. Just a taste. Just enough to show this arrogant prick exactly what I’m capable of.
But Caspian’s worried eyes catch mine, and he jolts forward, stepping between his guard and me before I can release anything.
Raised hands push against both my chest and the guard's. “Enough.” His voice carries the weight of command, but there’s an edge of concern to it.
“Move,” I growl, my shadows still writhing beneath my skin. The rain continues to pour, plastering his lush hair to his forehead.
“No.” His silver eyes lock with mine. “You’re done.”
Gavriel scoffs behind him. “Of course you’d defend her.”
“I’m not defending anyone,” Caspian snaps, turning to face his guard. “But this pointless fighting needs to stop. We have bigger problems to deal with.”
He’s right. The strange behavior of the realm, the increased security at the castle, whatever the fuck the king is doing—all of it is far worse than Gavriel’s jealousy.
“Fine.” A finger taps against the blade on my hip as I ignore the burn of essence on my arm where Gavriel’s flames touched me. “But keep your dog on a tighter leash next time.”
Gavriel lunges forward, but Caspian blocks his path. “Both of you, stop .” He runs a hand through his wet hair, frustration evident in every movement. “You're acting like damn children. We need to focus on my father and the Accord. We need to help the people of the kingdom. ”
“They tried to kill you,” I remind him, the memory of those people attacking him still fresh in my mind. Their words echo in my head… death to the king, death to the royals.
“I know.” His shoulders tense. “And their reactions are valid. I fear my father is only going to get worse now that he’s confessed to me. So this petty fighting is on hold for now.”
The castle looms behind us, its new fortifications making it look more like a prison than a palace. The Frostwell guards stationed along the walls watch us with cold eyes, their presence a stark reminder that things have changed in the week we’ve been away.
“Whatever. I’m tired.” I push through both men and start walking toward the castle, not waiting to see if Caspian follows. The rain begins to ease, but the chill remains in my bones.
I storm through the castle doors, water dripping from my clothes and creating puddles on the pristine floor. The staff will hate me even more for this mess, but I couldn’t care less right now.
“Ariella, wait!” Caspian calls from behind me. I ignore him, too focused on getting to my room and away from his insufferable friend.
I nearly collide with someone as I round a corner. The queen stands before me, her perfect posture and immaculate appearance making me feel even more disheveled. Her eyes rake over my mud-covered form with poorly concealed disgust as the lights above illuminate graying strands of hair around her face .
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting my son’s new guard,” she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
“I’m not your son’s anything,” I snap, just as Caspian catches up to us.
“Ignore her, mother. She enjoys being dramatic,” he says, placing a hand on my lower back. I resist the urge to stab him.
The queen’s eyes narrow as she takes in our appearance—both of us soaked, close to naked and covered in dirt, my shorts partially burned away from Gavriel’s essence. “You certainly don’t look like one of our sentries. Why are you not wearing the proper attire?”
I smirk, unable to resist. “Well, according to your husband, I’m just Caspian’s whore. Though, like everything else he thinks of me, he has that wrong too.”
“How’s that?” she asks, her perfectly shaped eyebrow arching.
“Because Caspian is my whore.”
The prince groans beside me while the queen and I glare at each other. I’ve never liked her—there’s something calculating behind those eyes, something venomous beneath her pristine exterior. She always looks unhappy, like there's a constant bitter taste in her mouth.
Her gaze drifts to my hair, and there’s a barely perceptible shift in her expression as it darkens. “You look so much like your mother,” she muses. “In fact, the first time I saw you at the trials, I thought you were Valyria.”
My fingers twitch toward my blade. The way she says my mother’s name, like they were close…it sets my teeth on edge .
Seraphina’s smile never wavers. “I only worry for my son’s reputation. A prince consorting with…well.” She gestures vaguely at my appearance. “I’m sure you understand my concerns.”
“Mother,” Caspian warns, his hand pressing firmer against my back.
“Oh, darling, I’m simply being honest. The kingdom talks, you know.” She steps closer, her pressed dress rustling. “And they’re saying such awful things about you both.”
I bare my teeth in what could pass for a smile. “Good. Give them something real to talk about.”
“Angel…” Caspian sighs.
The queen’s eyes glitter with false concern. “You see? This is exactly what worries me. Such…aggression. Such disrespect for our traditions, our ways.” She reaches out as if to touch my face, but I jerk back. “Your mother would be so disappointed to see what you’ve become.”
My shadows writhe beneath my skin. I've yet to use them to choke the life from someone, but I'm happy to start now. “Do not speak of her.”
“Why not? We were quite close, you know. Before she…” She trails off, sighing. “Well. Before everything went wrong.”
“Nothing went wrong,” I spit. “She was murdered.”
“Is that what you believe?” She tilts her head, studying me like I’m some curious creature, before her gaze shifts into something akin to worry. “How fascinating. Though I suppose it’s easier to blame others than face the truth. ”
“And what truth would that be, Your Majesty?” My voice is deadly quiet.
She pats Caspian’s cheek. “My dear boy, you really should find better company. Someone more suitable for your position.” Her eyes slide back to me. “Someone who isn’t quite so broken.”
Caspian and Seraphina have a tense, aggressive exchange, though I hear none of it. I shrivel into myself, her words replaying at an impossible speed in my head.
I’ve nothing to respond with because she’s absolutely right. My instincts tell me to grab my blade and ensure she can never speak again, but my body no longer answers to me.
She ripped open the one insecurity I’ve refused to acknowledge, and suddenly my chest feels heavy. Dense.
My fingers grip the stone wall as I force myself to breathe through the queen’s words. She knows nothing of my mother, of what happened that day. But her implications dig under my skin like poisoned blades.
I was only six when my mother took her life. Too young to understand why she’d leave me, but old enough to remember finding her body. The image is seared into my mind—her pale form sprawled across our floor, crimson pooling beneath her like some macabre painting.
Some nights I still wake tasting her blood in the air.
Marek says trauma shapes us, molds us into who we need to become.
But Marek…after he found me, he saw something in me worth saving. He took me to the guild, taught me to channel my rage in to something deadly. “Pain either breaks you or forges you stronger,” he’d say during our training. “Choose, Ariella”
Always the wise man.
I chose to become the blade that would eventually sever the king’s head from his shoulders. Every kill, every drop of blood I’ve spilled has been practice for that moment. Twenty years of honing myself into the perfect weapon, and I’ve not once allowed a single insecurity to plague my thoughts.
Yet here I stand, trembling before the queen’s words like that helpless child again. Because she’s right—I am broken. The little girl who lost everything never truly healed. She just learned to wear her scars like armor, and that is not something I’ve ever questioned. I have reveled in the fragmented pieces. Allowed them to burrow under my skin until they became a necessary part of me.
My past didn’t ruin me—it patched up the splinters my parents caused and made me whole.
But now, with Caspian…he makes me want things I can’t have. Makes me question if vengeance is all I’m meant for.
And that terrifies me more than any blade ever could, because it’s all I’ve known.
“I would like to speak with my son,” she announces in my direction. “Alone.” My eyes flit between the mother-son duo, a heartbeat passing before I stalk down the hall to shower this day off. I’m so fucking sick of letting the royal family slither their way into my head. It’s pathetic .
Once the king is dead, I will leave this tainted castle and figure out what artifacts are needed for the new Accord—with my luck, they'll not be the same as in the vision. No longer will I have to deal with the likes of the queen, or Gavriel, thank the fucking Angel. Just a few days until such freedoms are mine. I’ve waited twenty years for this; I can wait a little longer.