Page 35 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

“I know, and you will.” With that, he turned and continued his quick pace down the hall.

Like a trained pup, I followed. We wound through the three-story manor, and I thought he might be purposefully attempting to confuse me so I could not escape. The twists and turns were disorienting, and when we went down a set of stairs to later go up an oddly familiar set, I knew I had been right about his tactics.

At the end of a hall, we paused in front of yet another red door, exactly the same as Ranbir’s in appearance. Bellamy rapped on the copper wood three times, the sound echoing down the empty walkway. There were a string of curses coming from the other side, then the shuffling of feet. The door swung open, revealing a barely conscious Henry. His orange hair stood up in every direction, mussed from his pillow. He wore wrinkled black trousers, but his toned torso and his feet were left bare.

At the sight of Bellamy his brow furrowed, but when his eyes met mine, shock crossed his face.

“What do you want?” he asked, gaze flicking back to his prince. Informality like that was rarely used between subjects and royalty, and it seemed as if this was the norm between the two. A weak point in his otherwise strong unit. I could sense it, their animosity. I would use it the first chance I got.

“Actually, it is not me who wants anything. Asher would like to ask you a question though,” Bellamy said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Of course he would toss me to the wild beast with no remorse. His bitterness was a pain among other things. Henry once again eyed me, and I felt my body enter self-preservation mode, my feet bringing me a step further from him. Bellamy chuckled softly next to me when I swallowed loudly.

“Um yes, I do. First, I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. It was not right for me to use my power against you like that,” I offered, hoping to bridge the gap between us before asking for a favor. His eyes formed slits, and I could sense his apprehension. The suspicion he seemed to feel was warranted, because I was about to request his help when I did not necessarily deserve it.

“Power, huh?” he asked.

“What?” I asked, confused by his question and annoyed at his condescending tone. Fae power was a blessing from Eternity. From our creation. It was utterly unique, even if the demons might not think so. Their magic derived from darkness, from the Underworld. We were not the same.

“You know very little for someone of your status. Anyways, get to your point before Bellamy lights me on fire for refusing to speak in innuendos.” Again, the energy between the two grew thick, the anger tangible. I might get more from Henry than just training if I play the game correctly.

“I would like for you to train me in combat, if you have the time and are willing that is,” I stated plainly. It seemed this male liked directness.

His eyebrows rose, and his attention went back to Bellamy. I glanced over to see that the prince’s fists were squeezed at his side and every inch of his face had gone red. Fury radiated from him, pouring into the air. Henry smiled at that, then looked at me with mischief in his eyes.

“You do not have to ask me twice, darling.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ilet out a quick whoop at my small victory, causing Bellamy to cross his arms and pin Henry with a merciless glare.

“If you so much as look at Asher wrong, you will have me to answer to.” The threat sounded serious, but pumpkin did not seem to be phased. His lack of fear must have set Bellamy off, because the ground shook slightly, rattling vases on tables and pictures on walls.

“Relax Bell, I will not hurt her. She seems fully capable of protecting herself anyways. Go paint another pretty picture and leave us,” he scoffed, waving Bellamy away.

His words caught my attention, and I subconsciously scanned the nearby paintings. I had not realized before that, though they were a variety of styles and mediums, they all had the same feel to them. Passion and joy and sorrow and life.

“You painted these?” I asked with wonder in my voice. The gentle nod of his head and the shy smile told me that I still had so much to learn about this male. My captor. Or, as he would call himself, my savior.

“Yes, yes, he is very talented. Be talented somewhere else,” Henry said, rolling his eyes and grabbing my arm gently. Bellamy’s gaze went from soft to blazing in an instant, his hand reaching out for me. “Oh stop, she will be fine with me. Leave us be so we can begin.”

The second my body was fully through the door, Henry slammed it shut on his prince’s face.

I had never seen anyone disrespect a royal in that way, let alone one as powerful as Bellamy was. But the door did not smash open, there were no angry yells. Instead, I heard silence, then a moment later, furious steps retreating back down the hall.

“Interesting dynamic the two of you have,” I noted, eyebrows raised.

Henry just flashed me an, admittedly dashing, smile and walked further into his chambers. His relaxed demeanor calmed my stormy mind, and I felt instantly comfortable in his presence despite our previous hostility. Perhaps that was why I followed him, plopping down on the edge of his bed while he sifted through his clothes.

“So, what will I learn first?”

“Have you ever had any lessons in combat before?” he asked, littering the ground with shirts as he dug through the wardrobe. I shook my head no when he looked back at me, slightly ashamed that I had never forced the matter with Xavier and Mia.

“Bellamy just attempted to give me a single lesson, and it ended with his bloody nose and my broken hand,” I said. Henry snorted, but I was not amused. I left myself vulnerable in more ways than one.

Unwillingly, I thought back to a time when I talked back as a youngling. The way Mia narrowed her eyes, which told me I was too bold for my own good. How she called in Xavier to dole out the punishment in my room on the low level of the palace and watched. Or, just the other day, the way Xavier shook his head in disappointment before my beating.

I wondered silently if they never taught me because they knew how unpredictable I was, that I might fail them with fists rather than just words. A new fear came to life then, because Xavier and Mia knew best, that much I was aware. In every situation, their advice—whether I heeded it or not—turned out to be the wiser option. Was training a bad idea after all?

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