Page 62 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

Hands tore at her clothes. Cool night air hit her exposed skin.

No. No. No.

Any second now, they’d see the bindings. Realize the truth she’d hidden for so long.

The Gryphon erupted, blurring the boundary between beast and human. Its bloodlust flooded her body. Skylar’s hands clenched, her teeth grinding with the urge to tear flesh.

As if in slow motion, she saw one of the men’s eyes widen. Confusion gave way to shocked realization as he stared at her chest. The bindings. Unmistakable.

“What the fuck?—”

Cold, murderous hate filled her veins like ice.

Their fates were sealed.

She couldn’t let them live. Not now. Not with this knowledge.

Skylar closed her eyes, steeling herself.

She would summon it. Consequences be damned.

These men would die here. Torn apart by talon and beak, their blood staining the cobblestones.

The Gryphon’s desperation reached a fever pitch, its presence no longer just a part of her but threatening to consume her entirely.

Skylar could feel the boundaries between them blurring. Its thoughts and instincts bled into her own. The urge to rend, to tear, to destroy was almost overwhelming.

The familiar pain began to build in her chest as she prepared to unleash the cursed beast. But suddenly, a new sound cut through the night.

The unmistakable ring of a sword being drawn from its scabbard.

26

Skylar’s head snapped up, eyes wide and desperate, searching for the source of the sound. The alley blazed with sudden light as torches rounded the corner, their flames dancing off intricate gold embroidery and a familiar blade.

Arye.

He leapt from Blanche’s back, the white mare’s sides heaving, nostrils flared and flecked with foam. Behind him, the orange glow revealed Captain Knox and his men, their faces grim.

But it was Arye who commanded Skylar’s attention. His usual poise was gone, replaced by an aura feral, dangerous. His raven hair was wild, clothes askew, eyes blazing with a fury that sent a chill down her spine. This wasn’t the Crown Prince of Regalclaw. This was something else entirely. Unrestrained. Raw. Primal. The Demon King himself surely paled in comparison.

“Get your filthy hands off him!” Arye roared, his voice a guttural snarl that echoed off the alley walls.

Skylar turned back to see her attackers’ eyes darting between Arye and her, clearly caught off guard. They hesitated for a crucial moment.

It was all Arye needed.

He moved like a force of nature, his sword a silver blur in the torchlight. The first man, the one who had seen Skylar’s bindings, didn’t even have time to cry out. Arye’s blade found his throat with terrifying precision, but the cut wasn’t clean. It was sloppy, slow, deliberately painful. It jagged along the attacker’s neck, shredding his trachea and popping out the other side of his spine with a wet crunch that Skylar felt in her bones.

Blood sprayed, hot and sticky, across Skylar’s face. The metallic scent filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. She didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. Her body seemed frozen, disconnected, as if she were watching the scene unfold from somewhere far away. Yet every gruesome detail etched itself into her mind with horrifying clarity.

The Gryphon raged within her, its fury matching Arye’s. It clawed at her insides, desperate to be unleashed, to join in the carnage. With a surge of renewed strength, Skylar managed to spit out the foul rag that had been gagging her. Her breath came in brief, sharp gasps as she fought to contain it. The beast’s bloodlust mingled with her own fear and shame, creating a maelstrom of emotion that threatened to tear her apart.

“Secure the area!” Arye barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the remaining men. “No one escapes!”

Captain Knox’s voice rang out behind Skylar. “You heard His Highness! Move!”

Armored boots thundered against cobblestones, filling the alley as Captain Knox’s men rushed to block off escape routes. Metal scraped against stone, and the air filled with the clanking of weapons being drawn. But Skylar barely registered it. Herworld had narrowed to the frantic rhythm of her heart and the burning in her lungs as she struggled to breathe.

---