Page 183 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

A painful grunt tore from Aiden’s lips when Thalon landed a blow to the gamroara scar on his side.

Garrik exhaled a laugh through his nose, leaned forward, elbows to knees, and mentioned, “Thalon will not be easy on him. He has been away long enough that his movements are not as seamless. Aiden needs the training.”

Indeed, their Guardian laid punch after swing, though their sea captain weathered it well enough that Alora didn’t doubt he could withstand an enemy that was truly trying to slaughter him. He seemed to be doing well enough that Alora turned to Garrik and regarded a strange look in his eyes. Something like yearning, a glimmer of regret.

“Do you want to spar with them?” Because they had a weapon now. A weapon to counteract serpent darkness and permit Garrik to finallylive.

The mere mention had that tender-hearted smile, full of life and every beautiful thing, lifting on his face. His silver eyes were more like the moonlight tonight, vibrant with a touch of mystery, as they flashed her way.

In front of them, Thalon’s sweat-slicked arms held Aiden in a headlock, forcing him to his knees.

How long had it been since Garrik last felt the swift punch of his brothers’ fists? The clash of metal without fighting off dark magic? In camp, he never trained. Only ever with Smokeshadows or his swords in the dead of the night. Alone.

“Next time,” Garrik answered and stood. The incredible muscles in his back flexed as he deepened a breath and turnedto her. “Aiden mentioned that not all of Erissa’s rooms were searched. And I know she is distracted currently.” He paused, thinking, then went on, “Come with me? You can help distract the guards.”

Some brave and incredibly foolish part of her threw excitement into her veins. That part with suicidal impulses was surely trying to kill her. She shouldnotfeel so thrilled to find herself back in danger.

A voice of reason responded, “I will only get us caught and then your shadowy-ass will have to do some persuading.”

He chuckled. “With beauty like yours, I am certain I will not need to do much convincing.”

“In this ugly thing?” She arched a brow, scowling at the sea of crimson drowning her.

Garrik smirked. “I did not think you needed reminding. But allow me to assure you. You look exquisite in anything. Although, I did especially detest how you flattered a certain princeling tonight. Truly wicked, clever girl.”

The urge to meet his wolfish smirk was there, but instead, the harsh roll of her eyes could’ve summoned a mighty wind. Alora reclined on the bench and crossed her knee over the other, toying, “If you enjoy seeing me like this, you should see me in a crown.”

Those silver eyes darkened. Something unreadable stormed across his features.

Without a word, Garrik’s palm twisted. Smokeshadows tendriled around his fingers, fully engulfing his hand. When they misted away, Garrik’s obsidian-spiked crown rested there.

Those two steps forward had her heart stopping entirely. And when he dropped to a knee before her and held out his crown, her breath hitched to where she imagined it wouldn’t return.

“Princess,” her High Prince drawled, head bowed. And stars, she couldn’t stop staring at him.

Scarlet warmed her cheeks. The night sang around them in a melody of rustling leaves and nightbugs while Garrik’s hair fluttered in the breeze. She leaned forward and lifted his chin, ignoring his crown. When that enchanting stare met hers, Alora said, “Don’t … don’t call me a princess.”

“Yes.” Breathless, Garrik appeared as a starved animal. “Queen is more fitting.”

Dangerous—that line they tread. This wasdangerous.

“Stop.” It didn’t come out quite as confident as she meant it to be. “You look like you’re proposing.”

Garrik’s face was unreadable. He stared, barely breathing, as if waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. “Maybe I am.”

Across the garden, grunting and bone against flesh stopped as she felt the other’s attention swipe their way.

Quiet—roaring, unnerving, rapturing quiet—swept over the garden. Over the mountain. Elysian.

“Well…” She swallowed, fixating on the thunder of her heartbeat, on the decaying beat of his along their silver tether, and said, “Stop it. You look ridiculous.”

Garrik dropped his chin to his chest and laughed. The sound so warm it sent lightning through her spine. With a smile that could send her to the stars, he looked up and jested, “Not as ridiculous as you in that monstrosity?” Gesturing to the cloud of crimson gathered around her.

Alora couldn’t help the stupid laugh and smacked his shoulder. “I hate you,” she lied.

But something changed in his eyes. They weren’t squinting as he smiled—the polished silver brightened. His voice wasn’t a taunt. And she tried not to shiver at the vitality of his stare and how differently he said those words, “I know, clever girl.”

Shadows thieved his crown. Garrik straightened, and the sounds of sparring morphed into clashes of metal as Thalon and Aiden decided it was time for swinging blades.

---