30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Ariella
I sit cross-legged on my bed—one I still need to change the sheets on. My nose scrunches at the memory of waking up surrounded by crumbled dirt, blood, sweat, and whatever the fuck else managed to latch onto my skin.
My chin rests heavily on closed fists, the pain from my knuckles the only thing keeping me here. In front of my father’s journal.
Do I truly want to crack open this part of my past? To discover who my father actually was, and blur the too little memories I have of him?
“Stop being fucking pathetic—it’s just some old writing.” My voice is strange in the stillness of the room.
The leather creaks as I pry it open, breathing in deeply through my nose and out through my mouth. My shoulders ease with every page I turn, a hint of a smile on my lips. My father talked about my mother as if she were the only light in his life…he loved her just as much as I remember.
So many entries pass through my eyes—how beautiful my mother looked when she was pregnant with me. The day I was born, and how my father had dropped to his knees and bawled on my mother’s legs after holding me for the first time. He said I was the single most beautiful thing he’s ever seen…I clear my throat, blinking the burn away before turning the page.
I freeze as a deep pressure in my chest drops through my stomach. This one is a mere month before my mother took her life. I wasn’t expecting the entries to go this far…
Something clogs my throat. I turn the page.
“What the fuck…” I barely breathe, hastily turning the page only for my breathing to increase rapidly.
The nearly empty page trembles as I flip it.
I begin frantically flipping through the pages, catching pieces of what life looked like for my father after his wife killed herself.
“What does that mean?” I choke, the tightening in my throat almost unbearable.
She killed herself…for me…for an Accord? What balance has shifted? What the fuck was I supposed to learn that I didn’t because that bastard of a king—
I slap the journal shut and toss it across the bed.
I cannot think about any of this right now…it’s too much.
I push from the bed, stumbling over my boots as I yank them over my feet and release the wards at my door. I don’t have the mind to re-ward them before stalking toward the opposite side of the castle.
I swear to the Angel, if he isn’t in his room…
I turn down a wide hallway and heat floods my veins as my eyes find a woman hanging from Caspian’s arm, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. She’s the complete opposite of me, and exactly who Caspian should want in his life. She has long, luscious, brunette hair—every strand curled to perfection. Her round, soft face compliments her lithe body, and the admittedly pretty lavender gown she’s wearing hugs her small frame. She is the image of a perfect future queen.
Something I will never be—wouldn’t want to be.
I do not wear dresses or curl my hair. I’m not sweet or innocent…I murder people for a living, and I love it. I have a dark past, and clearly an even darker future with whatever the fuck is coming.
I know Caspian and I could not work long-term, but I have zero qualms about fucking with any woman who thinks she does have a future with him.
My gaze hardens as I stop directly in front of the pair. The woman’s eyes meet mine, hers widening as her neck flushes.
“Ariella…is there something I can help you with?” Caspian questions hesitantly, but I ignore him and continue studying the beauty in front of me.
It’s possible she doesn’t deserve my wrath…but she’s touching what isn’t hers.
“And who might you be?” I ask her sweetly, tilting my head.
“This is Je—” Caspian starts, but promptly shuts his mouth when I pin him with a heavy glare before my eyes slide back to the woman .
She peeks at the prince, obviously unsure of what to do in this situation. “Don’t look at him.” Her flustered stare snaps back to me, redness creeping up her pretty neck. “Look at me.”
“I—I’m Jessenia,” she stammers, her voice quivering slightly. Angel, she would not live a day outside of these castle walls. I pointedly glance at her arm wrapping around Caspian’s. She takes the hint, pushing from him quickly as if he’s some parasite—good girl.
“I assume you know my name already?” She nods, her nostrils flaring; she’s trying hard to hide her fear.
I step forward, causing her to back away. Two more steps have her pressed against a table, her chest rising and falling quickly. There’s a light sheen of sweat beginning to coat her appealing skin. I continue my advance until the front of my body lightly presses against hers and lift my hand to brush it along her cheek. She shivers, and I smirk—that did not feel like a tremble caused by anxiety.
I meet her wary eyes, curiosity and a glimmer of want flick through her sapphire irises. Interesting. “Well, Jessenia…” My hands spread to grab the edge of the table, leaning forward until I cage her in. A prisoner of my own. Our lips are a heartbeat away, though she does not pull back. “How would you like to be… friends ?” She hesitates for a moment but nods; her breath coats my skin, the sweet and fruity scent tantalizing my nerves—I want to know what she tastes like .
“I would like that, too.” I move my lips to press a kiss just under her jaw, testing how far she’s willing to take this. She stiffens, but tilts her head slightly. Whether she realizes her body is arching into mine remains a mystery, though I have a feeling she’s never experienced what it’s like to have the focus on her.
Men have a way of ignoring all of a woman’s needs, especially when they’re given everything they want either way.
“You see, Jessenia—” Another kiss, to her neck this time. “I treat my friends well. But the thing is,” her pulse flutters wildly against her throat, and I smile at her reaction to such simple touches, “you do not wish to know what it’s like to not be my friend.” I sweep my lips over her ear and whisper, “And if I ever see you near him again, you’ll find out.”
I lean back to hover her lips again. My stomach flutters as I cup her cheek, dread sweeping over her features before she nods. Her eyes flit to my lips before looking back up to me. She’s definitely wondering if I could make her feel better than any fool she’s ever been with.
I can.
My thumb swipes over her soft skin, and I smirk—I’d be caught dead by the Angel before admitting that I quite like her.
I press our mouths together, allowing her the freedom to pull away if she wishes. She doesn’t. Her hand snaps to my elbow as her heart races against my breast. She’s cautious—but curious—so I deepen the kiss and take all of her into me. She tastes of berries and warm days, and I nearly groan into her. My free hand traces her hip before grabbing her waist and pulling her closer. She’s so eager to take everything I’m giving, holding onto me as if she never wants to let go. She’s sighing into my mouth and arching in a way that molds her entire body to mine—and I am drinking in every moment of it.
Fuck Caspian, I want her.
No, I can’t. I grip her hair, tugging her back just enough that the slick of our lips just barely touches. “Do we understand each other?” I murmur over her puffy skin. She nods again, and I chuckle at her inability to speak.
My features darken as I free her and step back—a simple reminder of who I am, and what will happen if she doesn’t listen. “Now leave.” She presses a hand to her chest, breathing deeply before scurrying away. She weaves around the prince as if he were a curse, not even bothering to look him in the eye as she goes.
I face Caspian fully, who leans against the wall with an eyebrow raised, smirking at me. “I never took you for the jealous type, angel.” His amusement floods the space between us.
“Jealous?” I close the distance to him. “No…Jessenia and I just came to an understanding, is all.”
“Is that so?” The smile he’s attempting to hide tells me he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. He shouldn’t.
“Yes. You and I have plans—she was in the way.” I’m directly in front of him now, and I know he sees the heat in my gaze because his eyes narrow as his teeth graze their bottom lip. I snatch his hand and lead him down the hall toward his room.
“I must admit…what you did back there?” He laughs, taking a dramatic breath before sighing deeply. “That was hot as fuck.” It’s a struggle to hold in my smile, not answering him as I continue leading us through the castle.
Once we reach his room, I open the door and pull him inside, spinning to glare at the guard who is always there. As sweetly as I can manage… “Oh, Gavriel?” He narrows his eyes at me, knowing that whatever I’m about to say is going to piss him off. “If you don’t want to hear your prince being thoroughly fucked, I’d cover your ears.” I tap one of mine in point and wink before slamming the door shut.
Turning around, Caspian is watching me with bright, wide eyes. “You are inconceivable on the worst of days…but today? Fuck, I’m about to slit my own throat for daring to be in your presence.”
He somehow never ceases to surprise me with the things he says. But I’m nearly bursting with too many emotions, my stomach churning wildly. I do not wish to deal with them right now. “I was being serious to Gavriel. If you don’t want this, tell me right now so I can go find someone else to fuck. I’ve no time for games.” All lies.
He must see the desperation in my eyes, because his gaze darkens as he steps forward .
“You’re delusional if you think I’ll let another man touch you,” he spits, grabbing my neck tightly and holding me in place. “Unless you wanted to go play with Jessenia? I may be convinced to allow that, as long as I can join.” The humor in his voice shoots heat through my body. I snarl and grab his throat, shoving him roughly into the wall.
“You. Will. Not.” He bites his lip, smiling.
Fuck, I fell right into his trap.
“I knew you were jealous.” He presses into my grip to kiss me, my body immediately relaxing. When he pulls back, his features harden, serious once more as his astute eyes search mine. “What do you need, Ariella?”
All of my walls drop, and it’s no longer the assassin and the prince in this room—it’s just me and him. Two souls with opposite lives and the same goal.
Every instinct in my mind tugs me away from him, afraid to show anything that isn’t the cruel, emotionless mask I’m so comfortable in.
“I need to forget,” I whisper, wincing at my admittance of weakness.
But…the prince has never used those things against me, though he has every reason to. He’s in the perfect position to fight me at every step, but he doesn’t. He’s always chosen to protect me—so I choose him now. My control is breaking, and the only person I had left in my life that wouldn’t judge me is now dead .
Because of exactly what I’m about to do again.
The prince doesn’t ask for any explanation, nodding as his hands seek the hem of my shirt, lifting it from my body. His lips find mine in a fervent kiss, not separating for one moment as we continue to undress each other. I stumble over my boot for the second time today, laughing when Caspian follows me, barely stopping us from falling to the rug.
“Fuck, I love that laugh,” he murmurs, walking me backward.
My hands greedily flatten against his abdomen before sliding around his waist. He groans into my mouth when I grip the lines of muscles running along his spine, snapping whatever semblance of control I’d thought to maintain. As my ass meets the cold back of a wooden chair, I reach behind me to shove it aside before blindly swiping my hand across the prince’s desk.
Stacks of paper, gilded pens, and Angel knows what else clank to the floor. He smiles, running his tongue down my jaw as his hands lift the backs of my thighs to place me on the desk.
“You’re going to make Gavriel run in here thinking you’ve murdered me,” he chuckles, my back bowing when he bites into the side of my neck. His fingers cup my breast, pinching hard, and my hand shoots out to catch myself from falling back at the onslaught of sensations. My forehead creases when I grab something sharp, looking over to see my pants somehow landed up here .
“Are you worried, prince? I’ll invite him in myself, if it would make you feel better…though he couldn’t do a fucking thing to stop me if I did wish to kill you.”
He rises fully, kissing my needy skin until he reaches my ear. “I don’t know,” he grinds out, thrusting his cock through my center, leaving me writhing under his full attention. “How many times—” Thrust. “I have to fucking tell you—” Another, then one more. My fingers grip his shoulders tightly, as if they are the only things holding me together. “I am not scared of you, Ariella.” In one movement, he tugs my head back by my hair, pushing the tip of his length just inside my entrance.
My legs shake when he pauses, grabbing my free hand to drag it down his chest until we reach a rough line of skin—his scar. He places his forehead on mine, and I have half a mind to shove my pelvis forward for any kind of relief as he remains still.
“Do you know why I refused Elowen when she attempted to heal this?” I feel utterly pathetic when a whine escapes me as he pushes in just a fraction more. I shake my head, if only to distract my trembling limbs from the overwhelming throbbing at my core. “Because as much as you refuse to admit it, this is a reminder that you are affected by whatever the fuck this is between us, just as I am. That you try so hard to convince yourself to hate me, and yet cannot find it in your deliciously murderous heart to truly hurt me…and I will wear this scar proudly for the rest of my life.”
I pant against his lips, scrunching my eyes closed. Too much .
My hands pull us into a comfortable familiarity, my tongue searching for his until they caress each other in a demanding dance. He grips my wrists, ripping his own skin as my nails scrape over him when he pulls them off—I barely notice his chuckle from the way he undulates his hips, giving me not nearly enough of him. I can no longer draw him into me as he plants my hands on the table, encouraging them to hold me up as his cup my back and force me to arch forward.
“Caspian, please,” I cry when he continues to deny me.
He pauses, peering up from where he was just about to suck my breast into his mouth. “I get the feeling you’ve never begged for anything in your life…” A mischievous glint enters those silver eyes. “I quite like the sound of it—I should tease you more often.” My retort gets lost to his mouth—Angel, the things this man can do with his tongue. I shudder when he swirls my nipple gently before dragging his teeth over the bud.
My head falls back, only to snap up as he slides lower. A heartbeat later, he halts when a dagger meets his throat. “No. You’re going to fuck me—right now.”
He lifts to bring us at the same level, smirking before roughly thrusting forward until he’s fully seated inside me. My mouth drops on an airless moan as my hand slackens, lowering the blade from his heated skin. Before I can drop it back to the desk, the prince grabs my wrist and brings the cool metal back to his throat. He leans forward, our bodies still connected, until his nose rests against mine. The only sound in the tense space is the heaviness of our breaths.
Instinct demands I pull away and not let him hold me in such a vulnerable position.
I ignore it.
Instead, I watch him. I do not blink as I absorb the silver irises staring deeply through me. This is too much.
My breaths quicken, heat sliding up my neck. As I’m a moment away from breaking the trance, his eyes darken and he presses further into the blade. One drop of crimson slides down his neck, spreading over the lines of his chest.
“Should I fail to fulfill your needs, I want you to use it.” His hardened tone caresses my senses, causing the hair along my arms to rise. He drops his head slightly, his lips brushing a light kiss over the tingling skin of my own. “Because I wouldn’t dare live in a world in which I cannot satisfy your every desire.”
A dense shadow pushes against the inner walls of my chest, and I part my lips to compensate for the tightness. He doesn’t give me a chance to process the meaning behind his words before his mouth devours me, their urgency speaking of a desperate need to claim. He pounds into me furiously, his groans burrowing into my bones.
I am thoroughly lost in his taste, his smell. Can barely form a thought beyond the pleasure of each part of my body he worships .
This man that I hate, that I planned to kill to get revenge for his father’s actions. This man that I sunk my blade into before I left him bleeding in front of the castle he is to one day rule. I have told him time and time again just how little he means to me, regardless of what I actually feel.
Because I don’t fucking know.
I roll my hips in time with his, my arms securing around his shoulders. I shove my face into the crease of his neck, sobbing through every merciless thrust as he gives me exactly what I need. He presses his thumb into my spine and pushes as he slides his nail down to my tailbone, gripping my ass to shove himself harder into me.
“Oh fuck, Caspian, I can’t—” I clench around every inch of him as heat builds quickly at the base of my abdomen.
The hand holding my head to him tugs until my neck is exposed for whatever he wishes. “I got you, angel…let go,” he breathes over my skin before sucking just below my ear.
Release finds me the moment his cock swells, and the glide of his mouth feels desperate as it searches for mine. He bites down on my lip, drawing another wave of pleasure from me. His thrusts slow as we fall into a companionable silence, both of us trying to regulate our breathing. My eyes flit open to find his, the silver irises seeming to dim as he calms.
The intimacy of this moment is not lost on me, but the memory of why I’m here hits me hard—a distraction. But if this was merely a distraction, then why does admitting it hurt so badly? Why can I never just be honest with myself?
I sigh a long breath…because everyone I care for ends up murdered. And suddenly the thought of the prince dying is more frightening than what might happen if he lives.