26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ariella
I move from the lab in silence, irrespective of my injuries, years of conditioning guiding my body forward. My arm wraps around his throat before he registers my presence. He struggles as I flex my muscles, twisting his head until he goes limp. I lower his body quietly to the ground, despite my need to tear through something. Retrieving his blades, I sheathe two at my sides and grasp the hilt of the third, pointing the sharp end outward—I will not die from some avoidable injury by holding it incorrectly.
At least not until I find Caspian.
My feet guide me through several eerie tunnels before I pause, frowning. I don’t know where they’re keeping him, and yet…something pulls at my chest, urging me in the direction I know he is. I can feel the rightness of the pull. It makes no logical sense—but the feeling is insistent, impossible to ignore.
Calling to my vital strand, I heal the worst of my injuries, just enough to move and breathe properly. When that painful experience is done, I follow the humming under my sternum and run through the rest of the labyrinth. It’s strange, but I’ve no need for light or touch as I move, seeming to know exactly where the turns are and how much further until I reach the main part of the castle.
The halls are empty as I enter from the west tunnels. No staff, no nobles, no guards. Either it’s later than I thought, or something is very wrong.
I pause at the sound of hurried footsteps ahead. Gripping my blade tighter, I press against the wall and wait, forcing my breathing to slow. The steps grow closer, accompanied by hushed voices.
“—have to find her. The king will—”
“Shh!” the second voice hisses. “Do you want the whole castle to hear?”
Elowen and Jessenia round the corner, both freezing when they spot me. Elowen’s eyes widen as she takes in my appearance, while Jessenia’s hand flies to her mouth.
“By the Angel,” Elowen breathes, rushing forward. I raise my blade on instinct, and she halts. “You need healing.”
“I’m fine.” My voice sounds like gravel, and I clear my throat. “What are you doing here?”
Jessenia steps closer, her usual shyness replaced with a hard edge. “Looking for you.” She glances behind us. “Though I didn’t believe we’d find you.”
“Where’s Caspian?” Elowen asks, and I notice the way her hands twitch, likely itching to heal me.
That pull in my chest tugs again. “The arena.” They share a look I don’t like. “What? ”
“The king announced your execution to those attending the next phase of the Frostwell competition,” Jessenia murmurs, her silky brunette hair falling over a shoulder.
Of fucking course he has.
I brace to move past them but make a quick decision. “Listen carefully,” I command, straightening despite the protest of my muscles. “I need you both to do something, and you cannot fuck it up.”
Elowen nods. “Anything.”
“The king has taken children, experimented on them.” Their faces pale. “I don’t know if there are any still alive, but I need you to get them out if so. Find where he’s keeping them and get them somewhere safe.” I grab Elowen’s arm when she makes to speak, pointing my blade at the center of the other woman’s chest. She’s still just as beautiful as when she was hanging from the prince’s— no, focus. “If either of you get caught, I will kill you myself.”
“How will we find them?” Jessenia questions, doing her best to avoid the weapon above her heart.
I shrug, releasing Elowen and stepping back. “There’s an entrance to the underground tunnels through the south wing. Take it and follow the right path until you reach a fork. Go left, then take the second right. You’ll find a door that leads to a lab—they are not in there, but I’m sure Thalion keeps notes on their whereabouts.”
“What about the guards? ”
“There won’t be any. The king wants everyone to watch me die, remember?” I grin, my lips curling when even that hurts. “He’s always been a dramatic bastard.”
Jessenia’s throat bobs, the movement soft. “And after we get them out?”
“Take them to Marek at the guild. Tell him—” I pause, considering my words. “Tell him I sent you and to wait for my return; he’ll take it from there.”
“ If you return,” Elowen mutters. My eyes snap to hers, and she lifts her chin. “At least let me heal you before you go.”
I shake my head, allowing darkness to seep through my gaze. “No time. And I need you both focused on the children.” I turn to leave but halt. “One more thing—if you see anything that resembles notes on his experiments, take those too, and bring them to Caspian’s room.” They do not need to find out that my doors are warded, and my prince cannot even be bothered to lock his. Foolish.
“Wait,” Jessenia calls in that sweet voice as I start walking. “What if you don’t come back?”
I peer over my shoulder. “Then tell Marek to get the children far away from here. The king will look for them.” I meet their worried gazes. “But it’s a waste of breath—I’m not dying today.”
I don’t wait for their response before continuing down the hall, that persistent tug growing stronger with each step.
Cool night air covers my face as I step outside, making me groan. The imposing arena looms just ahead, hair standing along my skin. My instincts scream at me to turn back—this is wrong, all wrong—but that pull in my chest only grows stronger. It’s the reason I break into a run toward the unknown.
Why in the Aether would Caspian be in the arena? The bi-annual Frostwell competition is almost complete, but that has to be the last thing on mind after what happened in the tunnels. I cannot think of a valid reason for his presence there.
The tunnel entrance is unguarded and pitch black. More warning bells ring in my head. But I need to find him, so there is no hesitation in my steps as I rush into it, my breaths coming harder the closer I get to where I know he is.
Lights boom from every direction as I emerge into the arena proper. My feet halt when I spot him. Caspian stands alone—in the center—perfectly still, staring directly at me. Something about his posture sets my teeth on edge. His eyes, even from this distance, are void of any and all emotion. I’m used to seeing such an image in the mirror, but not from him…never him.
“Here she is!” Thalion’s voice thunders through the arena. I jerk, cursing myself for becoming so focused on Caspian that I failed to notice the crowded audience. “The Silver Wraith, traitor to the crown. She has been sentenced to death for harboring forbidden essence. A treason that cannot be forgiven.” So the bastard expected me to escape. "I bring this to you, my citizens, as an entertaining treat before we continue with the next phase of Frostwell events!"
The crowd erupts in a deafening roar, their cheers blending into a cacophony that embeds into my skull. The sound presses against my ears as if it’s trying to burrow there for safety, making it nearly impossible to focus. My fingers twitch at my sides, the weight of so many eyes clawing at my resolve. Why are they here? Were they not just calling for his death?
I must still have a head injury, because it's only now that I realize this is a trap—he fucking knew I’d come for the prince.
I showed him my one weakness, solely because I didn’t believe he’d be so heinous as to do anything that would harm his son.
I was wrong.
I’m unsure of what he’s done with Caspian, but the prince is not himself and I need to save us both before Thalion continues with whatever he’s planned.
I spin toward the tunnel, but the entrance has vanished, leaving behind smooth stone. The walls are extended past the threshold that would allow me to get us over them before Thalion could intervene. The king’s laughter echoes off the walls as panic claws up my throat. I keep my expression void of any emotion.
Think . There has to be a way out.
But I do not see one.
And for once, I’ve no fucking clue what to do.
I whirl back to Caspian, reaching for my blade. The king wouldn’t risk the death of his heir—I can use that. But as I approach, there’s a shift in Caspian’s eyes that stops me cold.
They’re so empty. They lack all the warmth and intelligence I’ve come to know. His face is a mere husk, with features that are unnaturally still. This isn’t my prince.
“Caspian?” I keep my voice low, searching his face for any sign of recognition. Nothing. “Caspian, look at me. Whatever he’s done to you, fight it.” Not even a flicker of a reaction appears, my heart sinking so low I could vomit.
“I’m afraid he can’t hear you,” Thalion calls down from his pretend throne, sick amusement clear in his voice. “My son has had a change of heart. He’s decided he’d like to be the one to kill you himself.”
I try to stop the trembling of my hands from his words, but I can’t as pieces click into place. Once I fill you with enough essence… The king’s earlier words, though sadistic, may be exactly what I need. He’s controlling Caspian with essence.
But the only strand with that ability is psionic—why is there no one speaking about how Thalion is using the same fucking forbidden essence he’s trying to kill me over? Pathetic. All of them.
“Kill her.”
I’ve no time to register the king’s command before I need to defend myself. Caspian moves faster than I’ve ever seen him move before, as his blade whistles through the air just a heartbeat after his father’s words. My years of training save me as I jerk back. Even then, the edge catches my throat, opening a shallow cut that burns as blood drips from it.
I stumble back, one hand pressed to my neck as I tug on my vital strand—there’s no point in hiding what the masses already know. The wound begins to close, but my essence is still weak. I’ll need to preserve as much as I can.
“Caspian, please,” I try again, dodging another strike. “This isn’t you. Push him from your head— fight him. ”
He doesn’t even blink, instead marching forward with artificial precision. He swings fists and blades at me, each strike calculated and emotionless. Nothing like the passionate fighter I’ve trained.
I evade his attacks with relative ease, but I’m already exhausted and injured, leaving me vulnerable if we do this for much longer. My head spins as I dance against his relentless assault, while attempting to put distance between us.
What will he do to himself if he hurts me? Kills me?
My heart pounds violently against my chest as I search for a way to break through to him. Reaching for my psionic strand, I shove it toward Caspian, trying to force my way into his mind. But I hit a wall—one stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced. Thalion’s essence is too severe, his hold too exhaustive and stable.
Why risk his heir like this? I could have Caspian’s head within a moment, and Thalion knows it. I glance up, my thoughts stuttering when I find him watching us with undisguised glee. The bastard also knows I won’t kill Caspian. He’s using my own feelings against me.
And he’s right…I will not do it. I can’t .
But I will hurt him.
I spin and kick my foot out as he advances, wincing when bones crack in his leg at my contact. He grunts, still focused on me, though a bit slower as he limps. His blade slices into my arm, and I hiss from the pain. This isn’t working. I can’t keep fighting him—and why would I? There’s no escape and no pathway into his mind. I will not leave here without the prince, so there is no justification for continuing this. My essence is nearly depleted from trying to heal and break his father’s control anyway.
I’ve nothing left and I’ve failed. Failed to protect him, failed to stop Thalion. If I could just go back to—
Wait.
An idea forms—stupid and desperate and reckless, but what other choice do I have at this point?
I cease fighting. Drop my weapons, and leave myself vulnerable, willingly. Something I never thought I’d do. Caspian’s next strike catches me across the ribs, reopening just healed wounds. I don’t try to defend myself.
Blood pools at my feet as Caspian advances slower than before. His movements are predatory, even with a limp; not the graceful and confident man I’ve come to…care for. I want to cry, to scream at him until my voice gives out. But I remain still, allowing the sharp metal to slice into my skin again.
And again.
The audience’s cheers fade to a dull roar as my focus narrows to the empty silver eyes before me. Eyes that once held such warmth when they looked at me. That crinkled at the corners when I said something particularly bratty. That blazed with desire and determination and something deeper. Something I was too afraid to accept.
“Fight back, wraith, or I’ll have the prince make your death excruciating!” Thalion’s voice booms through the arena. I ignore him, keeping my gaze locked on Caspian as his blade opens another wound. Interesting that he’s yet to damage anything vital—it’s as if he’s holding back.
My prince is in there somewhere. I know it. I’ve felt the depth of his essence, witnessed the strength of his spirit, experienced just what it’s like to be loved by him. No amount of the king’s corruption could erase that.
Blood drips steadily from multiple cuts as the essence I’d gathered earlier protests, wanting to heal me, but I push it down. I need what little remains for what comes next—and I pray to the Angel I don’t make a fucking fool of myself.
My legs tremble, begging to be released from the torture of holding me up, but I remain standing. Never taking my eyes from my prince. “Look at me,” I whisper, though I’m not positive he can hear me. “Really look at me, Caspian.”
For just a moment, I allow every one of my walls to drop. Let him see everything I’ve kept hidden, even after Meridian—my fear, my rage, my desperate need to save him. Most of all, I let him see how much I—
Fuck . How much he means to me.
His next strike falters. Just the tiniest hesitation, but it’s enough to feed the glimmer of hope I’d long ago lost. I suck in a shaky breath, gathering what remains of my strength.
“Caspian…if this doesn’t work, if it kills me, I’m sorry,” I murmur as my lip trembles. “For everything. For pushing you away, for being too afraid to admit what you already knew.” My voice cracks. “For not telling you what you deserved to know. ”
His blade hovers at my throat. Up close, there’s the faintest flicker of recognition in the bright storm of his eyes. The barest hint of him fighting through his father’s control.
It’s now or never.
My essence pulses in weak protest under my skin as I reach for the last of it—for a strand I’ve only used once before, and the consequences of that almost killed me. But for him? I’d risk anything.
The crowd’s bloodthirsty screams grow louder, demanding my death. Thalion’s laughter echoes off the rugged walls. It’s all too familiar. And none of it matters.
Only Caspian.
I close my eyes to the man whose blade wavers against my throat, allowing memories of him to wash over me. His stupid smirk when he thinks he’s being clever. The way his hands feel tangled in my hair. The sensation of his lips pressed against mine. How he sees past my carefully constructed armor to the dark, broken pieces underneath, yet wants me anyway.
When I open them again, determination floods my every vein. I may be the most feared assassin in the realm, but right now I’m just a woman trying to save the man she loves.
And I will save him, even if it destroys me in the process.
I study his face one last time, savoring those beautiful silver eyes, committing it all to memory. Then I sink deep within myself, grasping my temporal strand with everything I have left, and hope my body’s overuse of essence doesn’t kill me before I see him again.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe.
And then I run.