Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
A rnica and I made our way to the training room and peeked inside. I felt relieved to see no sign of Prince Ambrose; perhaps he had more pressing matters to attend to. I wasn’t ready to face him again. The truth was, I despised the way my knees went weak at the mere sight of him; he made me feel like I had lost control over my body, and I resented it. Part of me wanted to confront him, while the other part… well, I wasn’t sure about that part yet. Arnica and I settled on the floor and began stretching. I extended my legs and reached down, touching my toes with my fingertips.
Kaelan stood before us, crossing his arms over his well-built frame; his dark beige skin was more apparent today in his white shirt and shorts. Hair cascaded over his shoulders, and he seemed even more imposing than when we first met. I glanced at his bare feet. “What are you doing?” he asked, a touch of amusement in his typically monotonous voice.
“We’re stretching!” Arnica retorted, as if to say, “What does it look like, you big dummy!”
“Stretching?” Kaelan tilted his head as Arnica bent over, flattening her hands on the floor with her rear end in the air. He moved behind her, clearly trying to hide his fascination with her figure. Arnica seemed oblivious to his attention.
“Yes, unfortunately, us half-humans don’t bounce back as swiftly as you immortals. If we don’t stretch now, we will barely be able to walk tomorrow.” She gestured emphatically with her hands as she spoke.
He gave us a sympathetic look, as if genuinely sorry for our mortal predicament.
“Such fragile humans.”
Arnica abruptly straightened, her face flushed from being upside down. She looked on the verge of punching him. I wasn’t sure whether I should intervene or let the situation unfold. Perhaps that was what Kaelan intended: to provoke Arnica to get her in the right mood for the lesson.
Kaelan was straightforward and lacked a filter, but I had a hunch he didn’t mean to come across as harsh as he did. I nudged her with my foot.
“What? He’s rude!” she exclaimed, looking at me for support. I glanced back at him, silently expressing my apology. He tipped his head and smirked in return. So, he does have a sense of humour! Thank God for that. He turned away from us and headed to a wall with a large selection of weapons.
“Behave,” I growled at Arnica, but she rolled her eyes. She had no intention of playing nice with the wolf shifter today. I saw right through her fa?ade. This was her way of setting the tone from the beginning with men, her message simple: ‘I am strong. I am your equal, and do not underestimate me because I am not afraid of you.’
I couldn’t help but wonder if a man would enter her life someday, challenge her unyielding demeanour and break the barriers she had built. If that ever happened, such a man would instantly earn my respect. Taming a spirited person like Arnica demanded true strength—and an abundance of patience.
Kaelan handed me a dagger. I drew back the brown leather scabbard and admired the blade, running my fingers along its curved, sharp point. Gripping the hilt with my other hand, I marvelled at the intricate details: a cunning gold snake wound the length of the handle, its red tongue extending onto the blade. An intriguing symbol adorned the dagger’s pommel; it was possibly a coat of arms, yet one I had not encountered before.
I glanced at Arnica, who had helped herself to a sword from the pile in the corner of the room. Kaelan grunted as he quickly left my side and rushed to assist her.
“Wow, okay. Hold on there, little lady! That sword is too heavy for you,” he said, coming up close behind her. He positioned his arms on either side of her, helping to bear the weight of the weapon she had chosen. It was, of course, the largest of them all. Arnica paused, clearly stunned by his proximity. I couldn’t help but notice a subtle flush creeping into her cheeks.
“I don’t need your help, Kaelan,” she retorted. She shoved him with her shoulder, and though she couldn’t see it, I caught his smile.
He backed away from her, raising his hands. “Alright then.”
She spun to face him, lifting the heavy sword and pointing it at his face. He was almost two feet taller than her, but she didn’t hesitate to line the tip directly with his nose. Her wrist wobbled from the weight of it, but my sister was strong and unflinching. Instead, she kept it in the air, holding his gaze.
“It will be fine,” she said, narrowing her gaze on him.
A warm breath of air caressed my ear before trailing down my neck.
“I have a feeling Kaelan has finally met his match in your sister,” Prince Ambrose whispered. I involuntarily flinched, irritated by my body’s response to him. An instant surge of heat and butterflies entered my stomach, and my hands grew clammy. What was it with these men and their blatant disregard for personal space? Today, he carried a scent of sandalwood and cinnamon, almost as if he’d bathed in a pool of sweet spices before coming here.
I struggled to find my voice, so I mustered a fake smile instead, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.
“Are you well today, Miss Jayne?” he asked. I studied his full lips for a moment before looking away.
“I’m well, thank you. How are you, Prince Ambrose?” I replied with an air of disinterest, focusing on the array of weapons. I reached for the dagger, brushing the tip and registering the sharpness against my skin.
“Please, just call me Ambrose. I am much better now.” A sly smile played on his lips. “I see you’ve taken a liking to my dagger.”
I lifted it and asked, “This is yours?”
Ambrose hesitated when I extended the dagger toward him. “Don’t be absurd. Something that fits so perfectly in your hands should remain there. It’s yours, Jayne Elizabeth,” he said, and I felt momentarily paralysed by his generosity. A dagger was an intensely personal item, an extension of its owner, and receiving it was akin to receiving a piece of the owner’s soul. The gesture took me aback, and I was unsure how to respond.
I followed him to the centre of the room. “So, are the rumours true?” I asked, my words spilling out. “I once overheard soldiers talking among themselves, saying that iron was poisonous to the fae, and the slightest touch could prove lethal.”
“Not the slightest touch, but yes, it can be deadly. It’s one of the few ways we can be killed. For example, if an iron arrow were to pierce my foot, I would survive, but only if it was quickly removed. I might be bedridden for a while, lose my healing abilities, and require specific herbs to recover, but I wouldn’t die,” he explained. “Although, if it were to pierce”—he grabbed my hand so abruptly I couldn’t pull away and placed it on his chest—“here.” My heart raced at his touch. “That would be a different story.”
“Have you ever experienced it?”
“No, though I’ve had a few close calls over the years.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “But somehow, I always managed to slip through unscathed.” With a determined nod, he shifted his full attention to me. “Now, shall we begin?”
He walked to the edge of the training ring and kicked off his boots like it were a routine he’d performed countless times before. The casual ease with which he did it almost made him appear human, not like the immortal forged from the earth’s elements. He undid the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, folding them neatly at his elbows and revealing his sculpted forearms. I studied Ambrose, yet stopped when my mouth parted at the sight of him. He lifted his eyes, catching mine in a choke hold as if sensing my heartbeat pounding at a thousand beats per minute. I couldn’t play this game today, not when I felt the sudden heat flush my cheeks. I glanced away and returned to the floor to continue stretching.
Arnica was engaged in a heated exchange with Kaelan. They had started their sparring session, the sharp sounds of metal clashing against metal reverberating through the space. She huffed at him.
“Don’t take your eyes off me, then,” Kaelan retorted.
“I didn’t!”
“The second you did, you let me in.” He charged at her. He was right. Her form broke easily when he attacked. “And there—you did it again.”
“You’re not playing fair.”
“Do you think they will play fair out there? No.” He raised his voice a notch. “There are no rules when it comes to combat, Arnica. They will find your weakness, and they will get in, especially when you keep leaving yourself open.” He frowned, a bead of sweat dripping down his eyebrows. “Close your left; don’t let me inside your guard!”
Ambrose walked over to the wall and retrieved a massive stick that appeared to be a tribal spear with a stone tip at one end. He studied it before reaching for a duplicate. As he approached me, I narrowed my eyes.
“A spear?” I asked.
“Have you never seen a spear before, Miss Jayne? Do they not have them in your mortal lands?” he asked, a hint of mockery in his voice. Did he truly believe mortals spent their days play-fighting with sticks?
“Oh, we do. But it seems I may have left mine behind, Prince Ambrose,” I replied, widening my eyes in playful innocence. “Shall I fetch your time-travel apparatus? I can return you to the Dark Ages so you can challenge a caveman to a duel.”
Ambrose played along, grinning. “No need. I have one right here.” He tossed me a spear, and I caught it, my arm dropping with its weight. “There is great importance in the ability to use a weapon and use it well, whether it’s a simple stick from a forest or a rock crafted into a knife. War is coming, and you should learn with even the simplest of tools.” Ambrose paused, focusing on the spear’s sharp tip before returning his gaze to me. “Disarm me; that’s all you need to do! It can’t be that difficult, can it?” His soft grin enhanced his already perfect face. His eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, rendering me awe-struck. He was the Winter Prince, yet even the sunlight found him irresistible.
“You must swear to me, no magic,” I insisted, wondering if he had any hidden tricks up his sleeve.
“You have my word.” He smirked. “Now, I want you to come at me, and fast. Don’t hesitate. I want to see everything you’ve got,” he said, stepping back a few paces and readying his stance. He signalled for me to advance.
Following his instructions, I moved to where he indicated, spinning the staff around my shoulder and over my head in preparation. As I always did before a fight, I took a sharp, deep breath to centre myself and charged.
He was incredibly swift, sending me reeling, but I quickly regained my footing and responded with a rapid thrust. He blocked it, and I made to jab his left side, but he blocked that too. I tried again and again, move after move, one after the other—parry, strike, attack, lunge.
It was useless. Every time I thought I had him, it was like he anticipated it, countering my moves with precision, and turning the combat into a game of chess. He relentlessly advanced while I retreated.
He stepped toward me, but I raised my hand to catch my breath. “I’m okay. I just need a minute.” I was exhausted. Meanwhile, this perfect fae specimen looked the same as when we started. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. A smile flickered across his face, and I wiped my forehead with the corner of my shirt. I glared at him. He had to have a weak spot—a vulnerability. I just needed to find it.
The room was sweltering, like someone had cranked up the heat. I unbuckled my leather vest and flung it to the corner of the room, leaving me in just my linen underlay. I glanced down, contemplating how to make it less constricting without exposing my chest. Unbuttoning the bottom latches, I used the two longest strips to tie a knot, creating a makeshift opening. A sigh of relief escaped me as the cool air brushed my damp skin. A single bead of sweat traced a path to my navel.
Ambrose’s eyes were on me, lingering on my exposed torso before returning to meet my eyes. My breath caught when our eyes locked. He swallowed, then abruptly turned, running his fingers through his hair. With his back to me, I found an opening. I picked the spear off the ground and lunged. He caught it with the back of his hand without turning, gripping the end tight.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I protested, tugging with all my strength. He was stronger. He spun to face me, using his free hand to bring me closer. The force unbalanced me, and I stumbled into his arms. We both tumbled to the hard ground, and I braced for impact. Ambrose held me as we hit the floor, using his body to shield me from the fall.
I scrambled atop him, using my weight to pin him down. I clamped my legs firmly on either side of him.
“Yield!” I demanded. We were so close. His arms encircled my body, and our lips almost touched. I froze, my throat dry in anticipation, waiting for his answer and readying for his next move. He didn’t make one; he just watched me and slowly brought his hand up to my face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“For you, Jayne Ritherton, I yield.”
After four days, I was growing restless. Our intense training sessions were not enough to distract me from Jesse. Was he unharmed? Did he have everything he needed? The uncertainty gnawed at me, overshadowing even the distractions the prince provided. I suspected he intended to keep me busy to ensure my thoughts would not consume me. I was somewhat grateful for the distraction.
When I couldn’t sleep in the evenings, I peered out from my window and found the prince pacing the courtyard alone, with his hands clasped behind his back. He walked in repetitive circles. It struck me how his restless movements mirrored my own turmoil for Jesse. I often walked into rooms where he and the others conversed, catching snippets of their discussions. Their expressions mirrored the worry I first witnessed when arriving here. I pondered the subject of their conversations; they were keeping something from us, but I couldn’t quite discern what. Ambrose hadn’t chosen them to form his inner circle without reason. They were fierce protectors of the prince’s secrets. Their loyalty ran deep, extending beyond mere obligation or friendship. When they gathered in the same room, it felt as if they communicated telepathically, their eyes conveying unspoken words: a silent understanding between them all.
Our time training was filled with relentless drills. It wasn’t long until our bodies grew tired, our hands rough with calluses, and small burns and cuts marked our arms and legs—some inflicted from wielding magic, while others resulted from combat. This morning’s lesson with Nicolias was my favourite thus far; we focused on honing my fire-wielding skills and refining Arnica’s water abilities. By the end of the session, I could conjure streams of fire while Arnica manipulated water to extinguish them. It was a mesmerising display as magic burst from our hands, painting the sky with vivid colours.
I gazed into the distance and spotted a creature the size of a horse outside. A large, ashen wolf lay beneath the trees and observed from the sidelines, his dark eyes on Arnica. It was Kaelan. With deliberate grace, he rose to his feet, his muscular forelimbs and hind legs flexing and displaying their power as he approached. His massive paws left a distinct trail in the falling snow, and I followed his tracks.
Arnica was too far away for me to call out to her, so I held my breath as he drew nearer. He slipped behind her while her back was turned and crouched low, gently nudging her fingertips. Startled, she spun to face him, clasping her hands over her chest. While I saw her lips move, I couldn’t discern her words. I imagined she was giving him a piece of her mind for startling her. I chuckled when he nudged her again. But, this time, Arnica smirked. She rose on her tiptoes and ran her fingers along the top of his head. His eyes closed, savouring her touch. She allowed him nearer, delicately tracing the scar that crossed his eye. The intimacy of the gesture left me intrigued. Perhaps I had it wrong. Could it be they didn’t despise each other after all?
The prince and I found a graceful rhythm in our swordplay. His gaze was sharp and unwavering, and his tenderness in that shared moment from days before was gone. I mirrored his emotions and responded to his every move. Though I couldn’t pinpoint the exact time of day, it was evident we were approaching late afternoon. I slowed my pace, struggling to keep up with him. My body pleaded for respite. Fatigue weighed heavily on me, and my muscles ached, especially my arms.
“Yes! Again, Jayne!” Our swords clashed, and though I wanted to cry out from the pain, I maintained a stoic expression. I refused to yield, especially when he seemed determined to persist, keeping a relentless and brisk pace. “Again!”
Brennan entered the room, clapping his hands to get our attention. “Time is up, Ambrose. You are going to run that poor girl into the ground.”
Prince Ambrose stopped his advance and turned to face him. I lowered my weapon, taking advantage of the moment to catch my breath. I dropped to one knee, hoping they would take their time.
I hadn’t noticed that Arnica and Kaelan had stopped to observe us. I wondered how long they had been there, just staring. Arnica appeared exhausted but alert. Kaelan seemed curious.
“Brennan, she’ll be fine. She can handle this,” Ambrose said.
“Look at her, Ambrose. She’s exhausted; she needs a break. That’s enough for today. You’ll have her tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that.”
“What if that’s not sufficient?” he exclaimed, his anger transforming his once beautiful fae features.
His golden eyes darkened, resembling the deep, black night, and I sensed the elements in the room shift. Prickles of electricity coursed down my arms, and I expected thunder to crash into the room and tear through the walls, shattering everything in its path, including us. I glanced between Kaelan and Arnica, who had sprung to their feet. Kaelan positioned himself in front of Arnica, extending his arm to shield her from whatever might happen next. She gripped his forearm and peered at the ceiling, clearly sensing an impending threat. A low growl escaped Kaelan’s lips, and I wondered if he was preparing to transform into his wolven form.
I glanced at Ambrose, who continued glaring at Brennan. “I just need a little more time to work this out.”
“Time is a luxury we don’t have, Ambrose, you know that. You have already stepped in when you shouldn’t have. For goodness sake! Jesse is in their hands because of your actions!” Ambrose looked over at me, his eyes guilt-ridden.
I should have backed away from the man I thought could explode any minute. He could bring the whole room to its knees if he wished. Instead, I inched toward him.
“Ambrose, what is he talking about?”
“I-I’m sorry Jayne, I don’t know what came over me.” I took one step forward, and he took another back, turning away from me. “Let’s go, Kaelan.”
Kaelan stood firm in front of Arnica and did not move until Ambrose passed. “Now!” Ambrose ordered. Arnica dropped Kaelan’s arm, shocked. I don’t think she realised she was holding onto him so tightly. Kaelan glanced to where her hands had been moments ago before following Ambrose from the room. I heard material tearing, followed by the footfall of a four-legged creature. I peered down at the four-foot dwarf now beside me. He hooked his hands into his belt and stared after Ambrose. “Well, that was eventful, don’t you think?” He snorted, looking up at me as if inviting me to join in on the humour. I didn’t laugh. It took everything inside me to nod and force a smile because the truth was, my hands still trembled from the scene that took place, and I was biting back tears as he placed his hand on my arm.
“How do you say we get some fresh air?”