Page 35 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

For a heartbeat, Arye’s face went slack with surprise. Then his expression darkened, something primal igniting in the depths of his gaze. In two quick strides, he closed the distance between them. His hand shot out, fingers curling around the high collar of her shirt.

The fabric tightened against her throat, not enough to choke but a clear display of hierarchy. Skylar’s pulse raced, a heady blend of fear and anticipation flooding her senses. She was acutely aware of how easily he could overpower her, of the strength barely restrained in his grip.

“Every slight against you is a slight against me, Sky,” he growled, his face mere inches from hers. “I won’t tolerate it.”

Their eyes locked, neither willing to back down. Skylar’s heart raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She shouldbe terrified. She should be disgusted. Instead, she felt… alive. More alive than she had in years.

Her gaze dropped to his lips, full and slightly parted. The urge to close that final distance, to press her mouth against his, was almost overwhelming. She imagined how he would taste, how his teeth would feel grazing her neck, how his hands would feel under her shirt.

No.

Panic rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. She wasn’t herself right now; she was just the Duke. Arye must see her as his little brother, his loyal friend. Or worse, as a male lover. If he knew the truth… if he discovered her deception… The thought sent a spike of pain through her chest.

With monumental effort, Skylar wrenched her gaze away and slipped out of his grasp. She took a deep breath, forcing her features into a mask of calm indifference. “I should go,” she said, willing her voice not to shake. “It’s late, and we both have duties to attend to in the morning.”

Skylar turned to leave, desperate to put distance between them before she did something unforgivable. She managed a few quick paces toward the door.

“Sky, wait.”

Arye’s voice froze her in place. She heard his footsteps behind her, slow and deliberate. Each sound sent a jolt through her body.

“Look at me.”

Skylar steeled herself before turning. Her breath caught as she found Arye so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes captured hers, filled with an intensity that made her pulse race.

A cool breeze swept across her face, tickling her skin. She watched Arye’s gaze flick to her cheek, then back to her eyes. Slowly, he raised his hand. The brush of his fingers against herface sent electricity coursing through her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, and Skylar fought the urge to lean into it. She knew she should step back, but her legs wouldn’t obey. It took every ounce of willpower not to lean forward, not to put her arms around him and give in to the comfort and security he offered.

She had to end this. Now. For both their sakes.

“Arye,” she said, summoning every ounce of authority she possessed. It was the voice she used to command troops, to make hardened soldiers snap to attention. “I expect you to act like the Crown Prince you are, not some bloodthirsty soldier on a battlefield. This behavior is unbecoming.”

Arye’s body tensed slightly. He leaned closer, his scent enveloping her.

“And what will I get in return, Sky?” he asked, his voice a low whisper. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear as he spoke, the intimate gesture at odds with the intensity of his words. “If I play the perfect prince, what will you give me?”

The heat of his breath against her skin made her knees weak. Skylar’s mind raced. Every second in his arms was dangerous. She needed something, anything to shock him, to push him away. The lie formed on her lips before she could reconsider, bitter and painful. But it was for his best. She had to believe that.

“If you behave,” she began, hating herself for the deception, “I’ll introduce you to my intended.”

The warmth of Arye’s presence vanished as he jerked away. The sudden loss of contact left Skylar feeling bereft, even as relief flooded through her.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice tight and controlled.

“My mother has arranged a match for me.”

“A match?” he repeated, the word dripping with disdain. “And I suppose this… intended… is everything a Duke could want? Noble, well-connected, utterly boring?”

The bitterness in his words caught her off guard. She stayed silent, fixing her shirt, using the moment to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t enough. She had to give him the deathblow, making sure whatever he might feel for her would be destroyed.

“And when, pray tell, were you going to inform me of this development?” Arye’s voice was cold now, all trace of the earlier vulnerability gone.

“Perhaps when you chose to reveal what you’ve been up to behind my back,” she answered, not sure if she meant his vengeful side or his upcoming marriage. The words came out sharper than intended, edged with the pain of secrets kept and truths withheld.

Without looking back, Skylar strode towards the door. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the handle. She paused for a moment, half-hoping Arye would call out to her, half-dreading it.

But only silence followed her as she slipped out of the balcony and into the crowded hall beyond. The noise and heat of the banquet washed over her, a stark contrast to the cool night air. Skylar moved through the throng of nobles, their faces a blur of color and light. She nodded mechanically to those who greeted her, her mind still on the man she’d left behind.

Her chest ached, each breath a struggle against the tightness of her bindings and the weight of her lies. She’d done the right thing. She’d protected both of them from an impossible situation, from a path that could only lead to ruin.

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