Page 40 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

“Oh, Duke Anathemark,” she gushed, fanning herself vigorously. “I’ve always wondered—what does it feel like to summon your Divine Beast? Is it terribly painful? I’ve heard such dreadful rumors…”

Lady Alison cut in sharply. “Carlotta! That is not appropriate to ask.”

Skylar raised a hand, forcing a smile. “It’s quite all right, Lady Alison. To answer your question, Lady Carlotta, it is… anintense experience.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “But I assure you, any discomfort is worth it for the kingdom’s protection.”

Lady Carlotta nodded eagerly, hanging on every word. “How noble! And to think, your Gryphon is so much more majestic than the last Divine Beast. No offense to your late father, of course,” she added hastily.

Skylar’s smile felt brittle on her face, threatening to crack at any moment. “None taken. Each Divine Beast is unique, reflecting its summoner.”

“But surely its similarity to the Clawborne heraldry must mean something,” Lady Carlotta pressed. “It’s as if you were always destined to serve them!”

If only they knew.

Gryphon’s form wasn’t shaped by duty or loyalty to the Crown. It was born from the depths of Skylar’s hidden, desperate love for the Clawborne heir. For Arye.

A love that had turned out to be the worst curse of all.

The realization sent a fresh wave of conflict surging through her. She loved him with every fiber of her being. And sometimes, in unguarded moments, she thought he might feel something for her too. But it was the Duke he cared for—the man he’d grown up with, fought beside, trusted with his life.

If he knew the truth… if he discovered that his closest friend, the one person he thought he could always count on, had been lying to him from the very beginning…

No. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to protect him, even if it meant breaking both their hearts in the process.

Skylar’s gaze drifted across the garden, seeking respite from the noblewomen’s chatter. Her eyes found Arye almost instinctively. He stood with a group of advisors, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure even from a distance.

Squinting against the sun, Skylar made out Advisor Hannington gesturing emphatically as he spoke to Arye. Despite the distance, she could see the furrow in Arye’s brow, his hands clenched at his sides. The old man’s spectacles flashed in the sunlight as he shook his head, clearly disagreeing with whatever was being discussed.

Captain Knox stood nearby, his scarred face set in its usual grim expression. His hand rested casually on his sword’s pommel, ever vigilant even in the relative safety of the palace gardens. He caught her eye and gave a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgment.

As Skylar watched, Arye suddenly looked up, their eyes locking for a brief, electric moment. Skylar’s heart clenched painfully, heat racing through her body. She could see it now, the intensity in Arye’s gaze when he regarded her. The lingering touches, the protective fury. He might have feelings for her—or at least, for the man he believed her to be.

It was a cruel twist of fate. All those years of hiding her affections, believing it to be hopelessly one-sided, only to discover that Arye might return them—in the worst possible way. For a person who didn’t truly exist. Who would disappear into thin air soon.

She had to end this, before it was too late. Before Arye’s heart became as ensnared as her own.

There wasn’t much time left.

“Duke Anathemark?” Lady Alison’s gentle tone pulled Skylar from her spiraling thoughts. The older woman had latched onto Skylar’s arm, her bony fingers digging in with surprising strength. The lace of her sleeve scratched against Skylar’s skin. “Would you care to join me for tea later? I so rarely get the chance to speak with you.”

Before Skylar could formulate a polite refusal, a familiar voice rang out across the garden.

“I’m afraid the Duke has prior engagements, Lady Alison.”

Skylar’s heart leapt at the sound. Arye strode towards them, resplendent in his formal attire. The sunlight caught in his raven hair, turning the edges to liquid gold. His storm-gray eyes were hard as he regarded the assembled noblewomen, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“Your Highness,” Lady Carlotta curtsied deeply, the others following suit. “We didn’t realize you were in the gardens today.”

Arye’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Clearly.” His gaze swept over the group, lingering on Lady Alison’s hand still clutching Skylar’s arm. “I’m sure you all have other matters to attend to. The Duke and I have business to discuss.”

The dismissal was clear. With a flurry of curtsies and murmured farewells, the noblewomen retreated, their servants scurrying after them.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Arye’s posture relaxed slightly. He turned to Skylar, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Enjoying yourself, Sky?”

Skylar snorted, shaking her head. “Immensely. Nothing I love more than being poked and prodded like some exotic creature on display.”

Arye’s expression darkened, a flash of that familiar protective fury crossing his features. “They overstep their bounds. I should?—”

“No,” Skylar cut him off firmly. “Remember your promise.”

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