Page 18 of Shadows of the Crown

She giggles, sounding much brighter than she did a moment ago. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I shouldn’t even be here…I think the mentors just sent me so they didn’t lose the best of students.” I say nothing, continuing to lead our way to the guest wing. For some reason only the Angel knows, she takes my silence as an invitation. “I mean, I can barely hold a blade. I trip over everything, and there’s always bruises on my knees because of it. I’m not quick or smart. It almost feels like they wanted to get rid of me—and how lucky they are that this has become a fight to the death competition.”

I sigh deeply. “I cannot imaginewhythey’d wish to be rid of you.”

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?” A laugh slips from me.

“Very aware.” A finger taps against my blade, my skin becoming annoyingly itchy from the drying blood.

“Wait—I thought we were going to the healers?”

“I already told you I wouldn’t take you there,” I retort, quickening my steps. Just another minute before I’m freeof her.

“Where are we going, then?” A desperate tone takes over her voice, and I have half a mind to extend her wound until she bleeds out completely. I march up to Isaiah’s room and knock my fist against the door. He answers a moment later, eyes softening when he sees me, only for his brows to furrow as he takes in Ally.

“What are you doing here?” he asks hesitantly—he knows me too well.

“It seems your presence is required, after all. Isaiah, meet Ally. She needs your help to find a healer.” He crosses his arms and leans a shoulder against the door frame, eyes narrowing at me.

“And you couldn’t take her?”

“Do I look like a fucking escort?”

He smiles. “Do I?” I settle my hands on my hips and grin at him mockingly.

“Yes, you do.” My best friend barks a laugh, shaking his head. He pushes straight, entering the hallway as his door follows until it's closed.

“Hello…dying here! Could we hurry up?”

Isaiah’s eyes snap to mine, a playfulness settling in them. I give him a pointed look as if to say,“do you see what I’ve been dealing with?”He nods, shrugging agreeably.

“Yep, I got it,” he teases, patting me on the shoulder before gently pushing Ally back down the hall. Something tugsin my chest.

I wait for them to turn out of sight before moving to my door, tugging on my umbral strand—

A familiar frame comes into view. “Shit.” I lower my hand and lean against the wall; I cannot be caught weaving wards…especially not by the likes of the prince.

He and his friend have yet to notice me, so I unsheathe my blade to spin it through my fingers. The light catches on the metal and they both look up at the same time.

The guard that the prince was sparring before the initiation ceremony—and that is all it takes for me to speak.

“What business do you have in this part of the castle, prince?” I push from the wall, blocking their path. If he realizes just how thoroughly he drinks in my body, I’m not sure, but I will not stop his attention. It’ll only work in my favor.

“What business is it of yours to know?” My lips threaten to curve—I don’t let them.

“I seem to remember a certain threat I made the last time I caught you over here,” I purr, spinning my blade faster. The prince’s eyes scrunch closed, seeming as if he’s internally cursing himself. The guard next to him looks in his direction, clearly confused. Interesting.

“When were you over here?” his rough voice demands; they must be close if he can speak in such a manner withoutrepercussions.

“It doesn’t matter, Gavriel,” the prince says swiftly, crossing his arms. “That was the training room…I am allowed to walk these halls, you know.”

I shrug. “Fuck if I care.” My attention shifts to the man I really want to know about, who is currently glaring at me with a raging hatred that could match my own. “Do you stroll through the guest wing with random sentries all the time, or am I witnessing a special occasion?” Gavriel…the name sounds familiar.

“This is my personal guard.” He still refuses to answer my question—why is he here…

My thoughts are stuck on one word. “Personalguard? As in, he follows you around? Protecting you from…what, exactly? Women of the court?” His cheeks redden, though it’s difficult to discern how much in the dim lighting.

Gavriel speaks before his charge can. “Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth, wraith, or you and I are going to have a problem.”

I grin, feeling energized once more. “I love problems,” I croon, dragging my blade over his crimson jacket. “Especially resolving them…” I think a spark of fear flickers through his dark eyes, though it’s gone so quickly I’m not sure if that’s what I saw.

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