Chapter 29 Isi
ISI
Trew levered himself off me and straightened, his hand snapping around my arm, yanking me up before I could catch my breath. Heat bit through my sleeve, searing straight to the bone. His grip wasn’t just a restraint; it was a claim, a command, and something I didn’t dare name.
His fingers tightened around my arm while his gaze cut across the training hall like a hawk circling prey. Every bit of the room appeared under his control. I wanted to pull away, to catch my breath, but his grip tethered me to something I wasn’t ready to name.
“Are you planning to crush my arm into powder?” I asked, too quiet for anyone else to hear, pushing down the image of Crey’s blood pooling on the mat.
His gaze cut to mine, unflinching. “I just saved your life.”
I could feel the weight behind his gaze.
Not desire, but a reckoning. He had the power to act, to take, to claim, but every decision carried consequences.
One wrong move, one misstep in this court, and the lives he was sworn to protect could unravel.
I saw it there, in the tight line of his jaw.
The conflict between what he wanted and what he must safeguard.
Kerralyn had knelt beside Crey and was stroking his forehead. “Hold on. Please, hold on. The healers are on their way. You’ll be alright.” Her bloody hands shook.
From the pale stillness in his face, he was already gone.
The door behind us banged open, and Malcolm stormed in, a mass of warriors following. I caught something teal and silver zip out through the opening before the door slammed shut.
When Malcolm’s narrowed gaze landed on Crey sprawled in a pool of dark red, his breathing hitched. He glanced toward the wall where the spear had been mounted before he looked back at Crey.
“You will remain here.” Trew released my arms and rushed past everyone, flinging himself from the room and into the hall beyond, his cinderhawk swooping after him.
I glanced toward Lexie, and a wordless warning passed between us. While she grabbed everyone and dragged them over to the wall, I followed Trew.
The chill of the stone corridor swallowed us whole, but I didn’t care. He was moving too fast to question. Too fast to stop.
Partway down the corridor, he turned, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with command. “Go back inside, Isi. Remain with Malcolm.”
I caught up to him. “Is that an order?”
“It’s survival advice.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m coming with you.”
His gaze flickered with something wild before he shook his head. “No. Go back.” He took off down the hall again as if he believed I’d obey, his cinderhawk now riding on his shoulder.
I hurried after him, my boots thudding on the stone floor.
At the end of the corridor, he wrenched open a door, glaring down at me as I joined him.
The hawk’s wings flapped.
A tic bloomed in Trew’s jaw, and for a moment, I thought he’d throttle me. “I told you to return to Malcolm.”
“I will never allow anyone to cage me. Not even you.”
A growl ripped up his throat. “Stay close then. Do exactly as I say.”
I gave him a quick nod and eyed the tight staircase ahead that spiraled upward.
He started up, the stairwell so narrow, his shoulder brushed the walls with each stride. As I followed, his scent filled the tight space, winding through my lungs until my breath caught.
Our kiss had branded itself on my skin. Each time his gaze cut back, I swore it fell to my mouth before jerking away.
He wanted to close the distance again, I could see it in every taut muscle and lingering glance. I wasn’t just another woman in the castle. He had to protect, observe, and manipulate the balance of power. Yet despite that, he couldn’t help the pull I felt between us.
He picked up his pace and raced ahead, taking the stairs three steps at a time, his hawk soaring ahead of him, guiding the way.
I fought to keep up, my breathing ragged, my pulse thundering in my ears. The memory of Crey’s shocked face, alive one moment, gone the next, threatened to surface, but I shoved it down.
“Slow down,” I said.
“You can’t keep up.”
“You won’t get rid of me.”
He smirked. “Not for lack of trying.”
This banter between us was almost as dangerous as our kiss. It made me want more from this man than I should. My body’s response wasn’t solely from adrenaline. The reminder of his mouth on mine still burned across my bones, igniting everything it touched.
I stumbled on a cracked step, catching myself before I fell, stone scraping my palm.
His voice broke the tight silence. “Be careful.”
At the top, he creaked the door the rest of the way open, spilling pale light into the cramped space beyond. The viewing room was empty, chairs pushed aside, dust motes swirling in the torchlight.
His hawk perched on the back of one of the chairs pointing toward a wall of glass overlooking the training hall, our section in particular.
“Fuck, gone.” While his hawk shrieked, Trew dropped to his knees, his hands sweeping over the seats, his fingertips glowing with magic. The hum of his power buzzed through the air.
Rising, his hands dropped to his sides, and his eyes met mine. “Go to your chambers. Lock the door. Do not let anyone inside but me.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I said.
His jaw flexed. “You’re impossible when you should be scared.” A vein throbbed at his temple, and his jaw twitched.
His mask of control had cracked. If I looked hard enough, what might I see? I sensed a war waged inside him, his desperate urge to protect me battling his iron will to keep me at arm’s length. That subtle flicker of want and the shadow of fear for my safety made my chest tighten.
He turned away, the severing of our gaze almost violent.
“What happened to Crey’s companion?” I asked, remembering a pop and it disappearing. Had it returned to the other beasts, where it would wait to bond again?
“As dead as Crey.”
“What?”
He paused and gave me a solemn look. “Surely you know that companions die when their person does, Isi Barlowe who grew up in Oakhaven?”
“It was Deepwood.”
“Ah, yes, that’s right.”
What did he know? He kept teasing around the edges but never outright trying to pin me in a lie. He couldn’t know I was Princess Amarissa of Caldrith Court, or he’d not only expose but he’d also punish me.
After all, someone in this court had murdered my sister.
“Tell me what you found here,” I said, waving to the seats.
He held out his arm, and his hawk soared to him, landing lightly. Another flutter of his wings, and he perched on Trew’s shoulder, clutching his tunic and watching me.
“I know who was here,” Trew said. “I’m going to speak with them. I’ll have guards take you to your chambers.”
“They were aiming for me. That means I’m going with you.”
His scowl deepened but he only grumbled. “Alright, but you will remain silent. I will do the talking.”
Guards were waiting at the base of the stairs.
“Send four guards,” Trew barked. “I want them to collect Aryn, Kess, Valen, and Sira. Retired warriors, here for the bonding ceremony. I want them in the throne room now.”
The cinderhawk left his shoulder, flying down the hall.
Trew’s grip tightened around my wrist, and he set a brutal pace through the twisting corridors of the castle. My steps pounded, and despite being tall, his strides had to be one-and-a-half as long as mine. I could barely keep up.
He didn’t stop as we approached a set of enormous wooden doors. Guards scurried to yank them open in time for Trew to sweep through with me in tow.
The throne room resembled a cavern of power.
Unlike my father’s that he’d decorated with too much gilt and not enough sophistication, Trew’s was made up of smooth, vaulted ceilings and carved pillars lining the outer walls.
No gilt in sight, just tapestries depicting various beasts hanging on the walls between the pillars.
And a deep blue carpet stretching from here to the elevated platform beyond holding two large wooden thrones.
He took me up the steps and across the dais, not stopping until he reached the larger of the thrones. The hawk perched on the top.
Trew studied my face, the tic in his jaw still snapping.
“Go behind my throne,” he finally said. “Remain there and be silent. Do not let anyone know you’re here.”
“So I’m your dirty secret now?”
His low laugh trickled across my skin. “You’d be safer as my secret.”
“You mean yours to protect.”
He gave me a long look. Half warning, half admission, then latched onto my arm again and urged me behind the throne.
“I don’t like hiding like a coward,” I said.
“You’ll thank me later.”
“You’re assuming I’ll ever thank you for anything.”
His mouth twitched. “Noted.”
I slipped behind the carved wooden structure and for a moment, I thought I was going to stand there, unable to see what was happening.
Then I spied a narrow peephole carved discreetly into the back.
I pressed my eye close and watched as Trew sat, as the heavy doors groaned open again.
Guards ushered in four older adults, tense wariness lining their faces.
And as I studied them, I remembered the attack in the hallway after I’d arrived. A cold thought crept across my nape.
Once could be seen as a random attack. Twice shouted attempted murder.
A warning or a message.
I could be playing a deeper game here than I knew.
Swallowing hard, I kept my gaze fixed on the scene.
Crey had died in my place, a man I barely knew, and the thought of anyone else suffering instead of me made horror rush through me.
The guards urged the four forward, bringing them to a halt near the dais stairs. All bowed and greeted their king.
“You were in the viewing room during the sparring session?” Trew’s voice cut through the silence that followed.
The tallest man nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. We wanted to watch a bit of the sparring. Last night’s ceremony brought back many wonderful memories, and we couldn’t leave this morning until we’d—”
“Was anyone else with you four?” Trew snarled.
A flicker of hesitation passed between them, and the other man spoke. “No, my king. It was only the four of us.”
“We left before the sparring started,” the taller of the two women said in a respectful tone.
Trew leaned forward, bracing his palms on his knees. “Why?”
His bird watched him, barely sparing a glance at the others.
The woman’s gaze dropped before lifting back to his. “One of us was sick.” She glanced toward the shorter woman with tightly curled black hair.
“Something I ate,” the black-haired woman said. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, and she swiped it away, her sharp gaze seeming to pierce through the throne, finding where I hid.
“Something you ate?” Trew huffed. “Yet you all left?”
“We traveled together,” she said, sending a frown the other woman’s way. “I told them I wanted to leave. Things always feel better when you’re in your own home. We’d seen enough and the others agreed it was time to leave.”
“Did you see anyone in the hall outside the viewing room?”
The jaw of the oldest man tightened. “No one unexpected. Only warriors moving about, as usual. A few guards.”
“Did anyone enter the viewing room as you left?”
The other man shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. We closed the door and secured it with magic.”
Trew’s power buzzed again, and the four flinched but remained steady, only their widening eyes betraying their new fear of their king.
The hum faded and their postures loosened.
“Thank you.” Trew rose. “You may go.”
The guards escorted them from the throne room, their footsteps echoing down the hall until the doors had swung shut.
I stepped out from behind the throne and crossed the space between us, perching on the edge of the smaller throne beside him.
The velvet cushion felt plush and rich under my palms.
Trew’s gaze slid down my frame, and something hot and unguarded flashed through his eyes before he leaned back, deceptively relaxed. For a breath, he didn’t look away. His stare felt like possession, as if the very act of me sitting there carved something about us into stone.
Then his thick lashes dropped, cutting the connection with a sharpness that made my skin prickle. The retreat wasn’t mercy; it was calculation.
It made me wonder what he’d do if he ever stopped pulling back.
“You look good sitting there,” he drawled.
I leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, matching his calm. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late. You look like you’ve been there for years. And I like the view.” The corner of his mouth curved. Not quite a smile. More of a challenge. “Do you actually believe you have any say in this?”
“You’ve gotten used to people doing what you want. I’m not one of them.”
“No.” His voice dropped into something rougher. “You’re worse. You make me want things I shouldn’t.”
I arched a brow. “And yet you keep wanting them.”
His gaze dragged over me again, slow enough to make heat climb my neck. “Noted.”
Silence stretched, heavy with the memory of our kiss and the way he’d looked at me in the viewing room, like every barrier between us was temporary at best.
“They were telling the truth,” he finally said, his voice returning to that clipped, decisive tone that had irritated me at first but now made flames shoot through me.
I lifted my gaze to his. “Then who tried to kill me?”
The flicker of heat in his eyes deepened into something colder, deadlier. “I don’t know. But I will.”
His growl ripped out. “No one touches what’s mine.”