Chapter Twenty-One #4
Eyes flashed from one person to another, concern etched across their faces, but Arianna’s magic leapt at the possibility.
This could be it. This could be her chance to finally be rid of this creature once and for all.
She’d been close at the cabin, but here, she was in control.
Ice crawled across her palms, ready to exact revenge.
The Demon met her gaze. His eyes traveled to one of her hands and back up her body, seeming to assess her before he let his pack hit the ground. “Fine.”
Saoirse whirled. “Are you serious?” She turned to Alec next, clearly waiting for him to put a stop to the madness.
“We’ve sparred before,” Rion stated simply.
“When?” Saoirse demanded.
“At my camp, before we knew.”
“And?” His sister pressed.
The ghost of a smirk crossed The Demon’s face, making Arianna’s blood boil. “And she put me on my ass.” That bit of information intrigued her. They’d sparred and she’d won?
“Yeah, that does nothing for my concern.”
The Demon rolled his shoulders, as if working tension from an injury. Had he gotten it while trying to protect her? “I know better now, I won’t hold back.”
Good, she wouldn’t either.
Saoirse gaped at him. “No magic.”
Arianna clenched her fist, but before she could protest, The Demon said, “She’s not wearing a shackle.”
“There are plenty of bracelets,” Saoirse said, her gaze focused on Arianna. “I won’t risk her killing my brother.”
Arianna met Saoirse’s gaze, the two females sizing one another up. For a moment, Arianna wondered if Saoirse would step forward and demand to fight her instead. She didn’t.
Arianna let the beginnings of a plan form in her mind.
“Fine.” She stated. “Where are they?” It would be easy to let the bracelet fall from her wrist exactly when she needed it to.
She just had to be fast. Faster than The Demon.
She looked him over. He’d blocked her before with so little effort. Could she do it?
Yes. Yes, she could. One second. That’s all she needed. A quick distraction.
A servant approached Saoirse and presented her and The Demon with a pair of the iron bracelets.
Arianna hated the way that servant kept their head bowed and eyes averted.
They’d definitely been a slave. Their shackles had been removed, but they still weren’t free.
Had they even bothered to ask the individual if they’d like a different job?
She’d put Zylah in charge of such things once this war was over.
The Demon slid the iron over his wrist. Saoirse’s gaze locked on the crowd, searching for anyone who might try to attack her brother during his temporary moment of vulnerability.
“No magic,” Saoirse reminded them, looking pointedly at Arianna.
Another servant presented her with a bracelet and Arianna tried not to grimace at the scars around the female’s wrist. The servant met her eyes briefly and Arianna gave her a small smile before taking her bracelet and sliding it on.
Her magic bucked in response, like a horse frantically kicking against the walls of its stall.
It’s just for a minute, Arianna promised. Just until we get rid of him. For some reason, her magic didn’t seem fond of that idea either. It went utterly still. Her hair stood on end and a chill flew through her as if—as if—
“Are we doing this?” The Demon asked, his deep voice echoing through the marble hall.
Arianna growled in response, then launched forward, crossing the space separating them. The Demon blocked her strike with a slap to her wrist. She brought her elbow in with her other arm. He blocked that, too. A kick to the midsection. Another block.
Gods, he was so ridiculously fast. And every time their skin touched—she shuddered, hating the current that pulsed throughout her entire body.
She was thankful for her sleeves, but even so, the smallest movements still felt like tiny bursts of lightning.
His callused hands might as well have been red coals.
The pain reached inward, tugging at something cut off from the rest of her present self.
She hated it.
She hated him.
She hated Vairik and everything he’d done not only to her, but to the entire continent. Her people, Alastríona.
This was the first step in taking it all back.
The Demon fell back on his injured leg, grimaced, and stumbled.
She took advantage and lunged at him, planting her elbow in the side of his ribcage.
He grunted in pain and she brought her other arm around, but The Demon grabbed her and yanked her closer.
His breath whispered against the side of her ear and her heart thundered in response.
Arianna dropped her weight and elbowed him again, breaking his embrace from around her body. He fell back and winced on the leg again. It was apparently hurting him a lot more than he’d previously let on.
She smiled.
Arianna assaulted him again and again, making her movements predictable, only changing it up here and there as she forced him back on that leg over and over.
She spun, and he caught her foot, shoving her back. Arianna dropped to her knees and swept at his legs. He cursed and went sprawling to the ground. There. Arianna barely let her hand hit the marble floor before she launched herself forward and yanked the bracelet from her wrist. She had him.
Someone screamed her name, but Arianna ignored them, letting frost cover her fingertips. The Demon’s eyes went wide. For a famous general, he really should have known better than to trust someone to keep their word.
Her fingers grazed his chest, and she pulled a dagger from her boot with her other hand.
His body slammed against the marble floor and a thrill of excitement ran through her. He bounced once, then her weight was on top of him, her magic spreading across his chest like frost on a pane of glass. Her knife was at his throat, ready to finish the job with both magic and steel.
All the attempts on his life and she was finally going to be the one to do it. She’d be hailed not only as a queen, but a heroine to her people.
Pride flew through her chest. She could do this, she could—firm lips met hers and lightning speared through her so fiercely that her entire body seized up.
Her eyes flew open wide and her heart leapt into a gallop.
He was—what the hell was he doing? But before she could pull away, he pushed up and moved his lips in a way that had her entire body igniting.
She watched his green slitted eyes and felt as if the world were falling out from under her. Her hand loosened on the blade, her magic faltered, nearly fizzling.
“Arianna!” Talon’s voice. Was that fear? It was, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away, couldn’t move from the trance this creat—that Rion had locked her in.
Her hands tingled, reminding her that she could still move. She barely felt the blade, but the scent of his blood hit her and she glanced down to see a bead of red rolling down the strong column of his neck.
Rion pulled back slightly, still so close that he could have recaptured her lips in another kiss if he wished. And the way he was looking at her, those eyes … those gods-damned eyes.
“You’re in control,” Rion whispered.
“W—what?” She didn’t feel in control. Maybe she had a few minutes ago, but now? Now she felt as if she were falling off a steep cliff, crashing into the waves below only to be tumbled and tumbled and tumbled.
“You’re in control,” he repeated, as if it was a mantra. A promise. Words he’d uttered before.
Her body trembled. She had The Demon exactly where she wanted him, covered in her magic, a blade to his throat, and yet she was the one who felt frozen.
“Arianna.” Her name coming from him had entirely different feelings stirring. “What do you want?” Her jaw clenched. She hated the way he said her name. As if she were the planet and he the moon. As if she were gravity that held him to the earth.
“I want you to pay for everything you’ve done.”
Something flickered in his gaze. Pain? “That makes two of us.” Her lips parted at the serenity in his words. She hated that too, how he always seemed so honest. No, Gavin was part of this; he’d done something—
Rion’s hand was suddenly over hers, pushing her fingers tighter around the hilt of her dagger. “Is watching the hate in your eyes punishment enough or do I pay right here with my blood?”
The answer should have been an easy, but—
“Don’t.”