“And why didn’t it?”
His hands shuffled through Eldacar’s medical bag until he pulled out a needle and thread.
Needles. Out of all the sharp and pointed killing objects she was used to being around … a needle sent a spike of nausea to her throat. Her skin turned a dying grass shade of green.
Smokeshadows danced around her wound.Look away.
Alora did as told and felt the blood in her arms and legs draining.
The High Prince’s shadows whirled behind her, creating something for her to lean back on. “I shielded you both. And she knew that. So, she fought harder and released her pent-up rage.”
Thanks for telling me, bastard.
Garrik smiled. “If you would have known, you would not have fought like you did. Training with Thalon is incredibly valuable. But nothing compares to someone trying to shove a blade through your heart.” His hands threaded the needle through her numbed skin.
Alora leaned back onto her palms, not daring to watch. “I got my ass kicked. Horribly.”
“Yet, you did not yield.” He dropped to one knee and grabbed bandages from the satchel. “The courage to fight in the face of death is rare.”
Her lips twitched into a smile as she peered down at him. Enjoying the view of him on his knees.
“I am proud of you.” A cold hand began wrapping the wound with rolled cloth.
Alora’s heart dropped.Proud?
Who could be proud of someone cowering in fear before their enemy? Jade had found a weakness and pushed on it until she eventually burst. Just as she no doubt had been trained to do. Find the enemy's weakness, exploit it, use it to bring them to their knees. And it worked. Alora had played right into Jade’s taunts until that ember lit and eventually burned uncontrollably.
He called her a weapon once. He was right. She was a dangerous weapon. One that should be locked away to protect the camp. Only to be unleashed in the face of the High King.
She bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. “Proud of the way I lost control of my magic and panicked on my knees?” She sighed and leaned back on the table.
The High Prince continued to roll the bandage around her leg.
Jade was right. Pathetic indeed. Kaine should’ve killed me a long time ago.
A low growl reverberated from Garrik’s chest. He finished with the bandage and stood. His icy hands planted onto the table beside her thighs before leaning in close, and those muscular legs pushed between hers once again. All the way. Until he touched the table.
Swirls of ink formed in the glistening of his silver eyes as he leaned in close to hers.
The air changed.
And before her eyes stared the look of a killer.
The Savage Prince’s voice was quiet and tense. The sheer rage behind his visage could level a kingdom as his anger rippled in waves. “Do noteverthink or say that bullshit again.”
Every bone in her body rattled. She looked away at anything other than him.
His grip enclosed around her chin and guided her back to look into oblivion. “Never again, Alora.” His eyes lingered, locked onto hers before his fingers brushed down her skin and let her free.
She was unable to speak but managed a nod.
“Crying is not a weakness. It makes you stronger. Sometimes, you need to be beaten lower than you have ever been to stand taller than you ever were.” Garrik looked over at his tunic covering his death mark. “The pain of the past is everlasting, yet it can eventually mend. Until then”—the black in his eyes slowly retreated to reveal his silver once more—“I may be the lastperson you would want, but I am here should you need to talk about that which torments you.”
The sides of his hands lightly brushed against her thighs as he pulled away.
She shook her head, eyes spearing the canvas bunched at the top of the tent as warm tears lined her eyes. And there it was. That all-familiar feeling. Deep inside her aching chest and fingertips. The pulsing and ripping tension that hindered any desire to speak or to even try to move. Every bone in her body seized up, her blood felt heavier. All she could do was close her eyes and let the tears stream down. Because being broken like this, being silent about her past and letting Kaine beat not only her body, but allowing him to linger in her mind, was incredibly exhausting.
Alora filled her lungs and lowered her head, voice shaking in a whisper. “I’m not a princess.” As strange as it was, Jade’s taunting was the only thing her mind had repeated since the fight. A princess. Draped in lavish clothing and jewels, a kingdom of adoring subjects. An easy life—happy life. Not one locked in a tower and waiting for a knight to come save her. Rather, the princess who was stolen away and locked in a molding, stinking cellar.