Page 67 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

Her fingers trailed down to the newer bruises, angry purple and blue splotches that covered her ribs and abdomen. Each one was a testament to her failure. She was supposed to be the protector, the cursed guardian of Regalclaw. And yet, she’d been helpless against a group of common thugs.

Shame and self-loathing washed over her. If Arye hadn’t arrived when he did… She shuddered, unable to complete the thought.

With practiced movements, she began to dress, carefully hiding the evidence of the alley. She winced as she tightened her bindings, the pressure on her bruised ribs almost unbearable. But she couldn’t risk being discovered, not now. She needed to hurry, ride to the Anathemark Estate, and visit her mother before this night ended.

A sound at the bathroom door made her freeze, her heart leaping into her throat. She must have forgotten to lock her chambers. “Who’s there?” she called, hating the tremor in her voice.

“Sky, it’s me,” Arye answered through the door, instantly calming her racing pulse. “Are you decent?”

Skylar quickly pulled on her shirt, biting back a groan as the fabric brushed against her tender skin. “Just a moment,” she called out. “Did you need something?”

There was a pause before Arye responded, his voice oddly hesitant. “I brought some medicine. May I come in?”

Skylar’s hands stilled on the buttons. She swallowed hard, touched by his concern yet conflicted about how to respond. “Thank you, but that’s… unnecessary,” she said finally with a sigh. “And… I’d rather you didn’t enter right now.”

“Unnecessary? You’re hurt.”

She hesitated, then admitted quietly as she donned her vest, “The pain… serves as a reminder.” Her words dripped with self-loathing, a reflection of the guilt weighing on her soul. “Of my shortcomings.”

Another pause. Then, “Sky? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she replied, her brow furrowing at his tone.

“In the alley… did you notice anything… unusual?”

Skylar’s blood ran cold, her hand instinctively moving to her chest. Her bindings. Had he seen? She feigned casualness, though her heart raced. “The whole scene was rather unusual, don’t you think?”

She heard a soft chuckle from the other side of the door. “Fair point,” Arye conceded. Then, more seriously, “Those bastards… did they hurt you? Did they… do anything?”

Skylar closed her eyes, fighting back the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her at the memory. The rough hands holding her down, the panic as they tore at her clothes, the stench of unwashed skin and stale ale. She took a shaky breath. “Nothing that won’t heal,” she said, hating how weak she sounded. “You got there in time.”

There was a thud against the door, and Skylar realized Arye must have slid down to sit on the floor. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled, thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I would have done if… if something had happened to you. If they’d killed you.”

The raw pain in his words made Skylar’s chest ache. She pressed her palm against the door, wishing she could reach through and comfort him. “Arye,” she said gently. “I’m okay. And even if you hadn’t arrived when you did, I was about to summon Gryphon. The result would have been the same.”

“Thank the gods I got there first,” Arye said, his voice stronger now. She heard him stand, his hand apparently on the doorknob. “They weren’t worth such a sacrifice. I’m glad I could at least stop you from losing more years.”

Skylar breathed in deeply, gathering her strength before opening the door. Arye stood there, a sad smile on his lips. His eyes roamed over her, as if reassuring himself that she was really there, whole and unharmed.

She saw the blood on his clothes, the dried crimson on his face, the dirt and grime that spoke of the night’s violence. Butbeneath it all, she saw the boy she’d grown up with, the man she’d come to love.

Without a word, he pulled a small vial from his pocket. “Drink,” he said, pressing it into her hand. “All of it.”

Skylar hesitated, her desire for solace warring with her need to feel the pain. Arye’s gaze bore into her, unyielding. With a sigh, she uncorked it and downed its contents in one swift motion. The bitter taste made her grimace, but the throbbing slowly began to dull. Skylar felt a mix of relief and loss.

She turned away, moving to her desk where the folded cape lay.

“Here,” she murmured, holding it out to him. “You should take this back.”

But he shook his head, draping it around her once more. It was too large and yet somehow right.

“Keep it,” he said softly, his fingers lingering on the fabric. “It suits you.”

His hands remained on her shoulders, the warmth of his touch seeping through the layers. Skylar felt herself leaning into it, craving the comfort even though she knew she should pull away. “Will you be staying with your mother?” Arye asked, an odd note in his tone. “Or will I see you again?”

Skylar’s heart clenched. This was it. The moment she’d been dreading. “I’ll come back after seeing my brother,” she answered, avoiding his gaze. “Just to gather my belongings before I leave.”

Arye’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “Stay,” he said, the word somewhere between a command and a plea. Not strong enough to activate the pact, but still impactful.

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