Page 35 of Shadows of the Crown

“What?” I don’t look—I already know what they see. His essence is a beacon that warns me of his approach.

“I thought you said there was nothing going on between you and the prince?” My forehead creases at Isaiah’s shadowed tone.

“I believe I said it wasn’t important, but there isn’t anythinggoing on.”

“Are you sure?” Ally chews on her thumb, struggling to hide a giddy smile. “Because he’s walking over here, and his eyes have not left you once.”

“He’s likely just checking on me. I was quite wounded.” They blink at me. That was a pitiful attempt at redirecting their unvoiced questions…not even I believe my excuses.

I spin when his boots sound against the mat and study him for a moment longer than necessary. He looks so…mundane. Loose, sapphire pants adorn his long legs, while a white top flaunts his broad shoulders.

I cross my arms as I clear my throat. “What do you want?” He doesn’t answer, inspecting every part of my body before he reaches me. A breeze drifts by, carrying the scent of worn books and the kind of lavender I enjoy in my tea.

“How are you feeling?” His concern means nothing.

“Aside from annoyed that your bitter guard was stalking me earlier? Perfectly fine.”

He purses his lips before mimicking my stance. “Bitter, huh? That is exactly what he said about you.”

“It’s my room—I can behave how I please. He was there uninvited.”

“I invited him,” the prince remarks, a challenge in those playful eyes.

“Interesting, because I don’t recall inviting you, either.” Bantering is not something I usually enjoy, but I find it amusing with the prince.

“Would you like to?” I blink once and bite my cheek as if I’m truly considering such an absurd question.

Of course I wouldn’t—I’m forced to see him enough as it is.

Yet…I find myself blurting, “And if I say yes?” He steps close enough that I have to tilt my head to hold his gaze.

“Then allow me to escort you.” He sweeps a hand out, offering. “I’m quite eager for a tour—I was a bit preoccupied last night.”

I throw my head back to laugh, tensing when I lift and meet his wide eyes. I look away, finding the texture of the mat quite interesting. “Not happening, prince. I do not allow anyone into my room. Ever.”

He opens his mouth with what I’m sure is an enlightening retort, but thinks better of it, nodding. “A challenge, then.”

“You wish to challenge me? Have you no memory of the last time we sparred?”

He chuckles, snagging his lip between his teeth. “Oh, I remember.” His smile turns sinister as he clicks his tongue. “I remember how easily you had me on my knees for you. The way your thighs squeezed mine when you pinned me on my back. Howwarmyour—”

“Fine,” I spit out, wanting nothing more than to punch his ridiculous face. “I accept. But I did go easy on you the first time—it will not be the same today.”

“You think you’ll win against me again?”

“I’ve no need to think about it; of course I will win. You, on the other hand, should start praying.”

“Pray,” he lilts. “To whom, exactly? An Angel I’m not even sure exists?”

“No,” I drawl, closing the distance between our tense bodies. I look him in the eye, a wicked smile tugging at my lips. “You’llbe praying to me by the time we’re done here. For a mercy I will never grant.”

His answering chuckle sends a shiver down my spine as he tilts his head to the clouds. He swallows heavily, and I inwardly curse myself at my body’s heated response. “I don’t see the problem, then. We both know I’m more than willing to bow at your feet. I can think ofmanyways to pray in that position…” He bites his lip, and I watch the movement carefully as he leans in to whisper, “Shall I skip the embarrassment of you winning and get started now?”

I narrow my eyes at the moonlit aura of his; it’s more difficult than it should be to maintain an indifferent facade.

“Choose your blade, prince.” A predatory smile pulls at his lips as his tongue swipes over them.

I walk to the center of the mat and wait with my back to him—foolish to do in any other scenario, but highly entertaining right now as his heavy footfalls stalk toward me. He likely believes he's being quiet, arrogant prick that he is. Though they are more forgiving this time…maybe he listened to my advice, after all. His steps skip just behind me, and I twist to catch the leg he swings at my waist. My blade presses over his femoral artery, Caspian freezing when he realizes my target.

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