Page 33 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

The door clicked shut. Silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring. Skylar could feel Arye’s gaze on her back, heavy and expectant. Finally, he spoke.

“Damn it, why?” His voice was rough, as though the words had been dragged from him. “Why offer to use the Gryphon again?”

Skylar closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her decision anew. “Because I had to,” she said, turning to face him. “Our men suffered—died—because I was too afraid to summon that cursed beast. I can’t let that happen again.” She swallowed hard. “The guilt… it’s consuming me.”

Arye’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. His eyes, usually so guarded, were raw with emotion. “And what about you?” he demanded, taking a step closer. “What happens when you’ve used up all your life force summoning that… that thing?”

The vehemence in his voice took Skylar aback. She could see the fear lurking behind his anger, the desperation that mirrored her own.

“Then I’ll have done my duty,” Skylar said simply.

For a second, Arye looked as though he might argue. Then his shoulders sagged, defeat written in every line of his body. “I won’t let it come to that,” he growled with fierce determination. The intensity of his gaze pinned Skylar in place. “There won’t be another situation where you need to summon the Gryphon. Your sword will be enough.”

A bitter laugh escaped Skylar’s lips before she could stop it. “Is that why you’ve been so attentive to the Princess?”

Arye’s eyes flashed. “You think I care for her?” he spat, disgust evident in every syllable. “Ha. That vapid, scheming—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The movement disarranged the careful styling, leaving him looking younger, more vulnerable.

“Life is complicated.”

“It really is.” He sighed. “I’ve been trying to navigate this mess without resorting to war, but it’s… hard.”

The intensity in his voice made Skylar’s breath catch. She opened her mouth to respond, to offer some words of comfort or understanding, but Arye spoke again, his tone softer now.

“How was your trip to the estate? Your mother… is she well?”

Skylar blinked, surprised by the sudden change of subject. “She’s managing,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “The pregnancy is taking its toll, but she’s strong. My brother will be born soon.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “It’s strange to think about, really. After all this time…”

Arye nodded, his expression thoughtful. The moonlight caught in his dark hair, turning the edges to silver. “And what of you? Will you return to the estate after the birth?”

“For a while,” Skylar said, her heart heavy. She turned back to the railing, unable to meet his gaze as she continued. “There are some matters I need to look into—strange disappearances in my territory. And then…” She trailed off, unable to voice the reality of her impending departure.

“And then?” Arye prompted, his voice closer now. Her skin prickled with awareness of his presence at her back, so near yet impossibly far.

Skylar swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “I can’t stay at the palace forever. You know that.”

“Why not?” The question was sharp, almost angry. Skylar turned to find Arye mere inches away. “Your place is here. With?—”

He broke off as the balcony door swung open again and two noblewomen stumbled out, giggling and flushed with wine. They froze at the sight of Skylar and Arye, their eyes widening in recognition.

“Oh!” one of them gasped, dropping into a clumsy curtsy. Her golden hair, piled high in an intricate style, wobbled dangerously with the movement. “Your Highness, Your Grace. We didn’t realize?—”

Her companion, a willowy brunette with an expression like a startled deer, tugged at her sleeve, whispering none too quietly, “Careful! That’s the devil Duke.”

The words struck Skylar like a punch to the gut. She’d heard the whispers before, of course, but never so blatantly. Never right to her face. She didn’t expect that, but even less she expected Arye’s reaction which was immediate and terrifying.

His eyes blazed with a fury that Skylar had never seen before, not once in the heat of battle. He advanced on the women, each step measured and deliberate. The predatory grace of his movements reminded Skylar of a wolf closing in on its prey. Or the Gryphon.

“What did you say?” he snarled, his voice low. The women cowered, all trace of inebriation gone. “Repeat it. Now.”

“P-please, Your Highness,” the blonde stammered, her earlier confidence evaporating. “We meant no disrespect?—”

“Liar,” Arye spat, the word like venom from his lips. In one fluid motion, he drew his sword, the steel singing as it left its ornate scabbard. “On your knees, both of you. You’ll answer for this insult.”

Tears streamed down the women’s faces as they sank to the ground, their fine gowns pooling around them like spilled wine. Skylar watched, frozen, as Arye loomed over them. The air crackled with tension, thick enough to choke on. She remembered her mother’s warning. He was a Clawborne indeed.For a moment, Skylar could almost see the Gryphon’s shadow falling over Arye, its wings spread wide and terrible.

“Arye.” His name left her lips without conscious thought. She moved towards him, drawn by an instinct she couldn’t name. Her hand came to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. “That’s enough.”

For a long moment, Arye didn’t move. He stood rigid beneath her touch, coiled tight as a spring about to snap. Then, slowly, the tension began to drain from his body. With a controlled exhale, he sheathed his blade, the metal sliding smoothly into its gilded housing, though his eyes remained hard as he glared at the trembling women.

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