Page 36 of Shadows of the Crown

“You wouldn't.” I hum at his words, pressing until my blade jerks slightly from the give of his skin. He winces.

“Would you bet your life on that theory?” His eyes bore into mine, and I will forever be haunted by the way he successfully distracts me enough to curve his leg in and twist our bodies until we stumble. I flip the blade so that the tip presses into my forearm as I fall, grunting as his weight drops on me. Before I can defend myself, he's straddling me as he presses down on my crossed arms.

He leans down until he's close enough that I can map the ridges of his irises, where different shades of silver blend together seamlessly. He glances at my lips before smiling, the heat from the sunnothingcompared to the fire burning every place he leans against. “We should really start training together daily. I'm finding it very…beneficial.” My thighs clamp together at the raw desire laced in his every feature, and he smirks, having noticed the slight movement. “It's okay to admit you want me, angel. I won't tell anyone just how badly the Silver Wraithachesfor the prince she claims to hate,” he breathes in my ear, the wetness pooling between my legs a traitorous reaction to his words.

“You'd do well to get off me before I make you regret it,” I say quickly, swallowing around the thickness caught in my throat. I need to remove myself from this position before I do something positively foolish like admit the truth of his claim.

“I'd love to see you try—” I slam my head into his nose, swinging my knees up to shove him over my body. By the time I'm standing, a horrified crowd has gathered as he remains on his back, laughing deeply. I step forward and stare down at the bloody messof his face, my brows scrunching. “Fuck, you're incredible,” he breathes to himself before opening his eyes to realize dozens of people are watching him do…I'm not sure what, exactly.

He pushes himself up, and we continue like that for hours. When it turned from a challenge to me training him and correcting his many mistakes, I'm not sure, but all at once the reality of our situation soaks back into me.

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” His eyes flit to our audience for a moment before he snatches the opportunity my line of questioning has presented. He takes one step in my direction—and another—until the heat of his chest warms my own.

He smirks when I lose my focus in the near touch of our bodies. “And convince my father to take you from me?” He drags his blade lightly over my abdomen, delicately curving it around my breast until the tip presses into the base of my throat. “I don’t think so.” I cannot let him inside my head. I have things to do here, and he is not one of them.

But the longer I’m in his presence, the more illogical my resolve seems.

“He couldn’t take me from you—I’m not yours to steal.” That is precisely what he hoped I would say.

“We can change that,” he whispers, his tongue clicking on the final word as his eyes slide to my lips. Lavender breath kisses my skin, and I realize one of us has leaned in further. “I wouldn’t wish to be deemed a liar, after all.”

“I’ll pass. I’ve had enough disappointing partners to last the Angel’s lifetime.” His gaze hardens as he purses his lips. I remain still when the blade nicks the skin above my pounding heart.

“Clearly thosepartners,” he spits, giving me the sense that he wouldn’t mind knowing their names, “did not understand how to tend to such treasures.”

“And you do?” A flare of wild hunger appears in his intense eyes.

“Why don’t we go find out? I’ll let you decide.” There’s amusement laced in each purposeful word. I smirk and press into the blade.

“I have a better idea,” I purr, delighting in the way he clings to my unspoken proposal.

The prince waits eagerly, barely inclining his head toward me before I drive my knee into his cock and slide the blade from his hand. Breath hisses through his teeth as I step to his side and kick the backs of his knees, sending him to the mat. My hand grips his hair and jerks him back until his wild eyes find mine.

The sharp steel presses under his chin, forcing him to tilt his head until it rests against my lower abdomen. I ignore the thrill that travels down my spine when he laughs and my blade yields to the movement.

“This was quite the effort just to get me on my knees, angel. I believe I told you earlier Iwould do so willingly.”

I hold his gaze, neither of us daring to be the first that looks away.

“What the fuck is this?” The connection remains a moment longer before my eyes track up, landing on an exasperated looking man.

Curly, dark hair bounces over rich skin as he jogs in my direction. He wears tailored pants with a white, half-buttoned shirt, and a black vest adorned in red and gold jewels.

He halts several feet away, holding his hands up as if to placate me. “Please do not hurt the prince. Name your price—anything you wish for—and it’s yours.”

The blade in my hand bounces. “Anything?”

“Yes!” His dark eyes dart around wildly as he silently questions why no one else is helping the prince. “Whatever you want, just don’t do this.”

A smile tugs at my mouth, and I study the man before me. My left hand strokes Caspian’s lush hair—a warning and a comfort—as I press the blade harder into his skin. “And what if the only thing I wish for is to kill your prince?”

The man’s jaw drops, garbled noises falling from his gaping mouth. “Fuck off, Bastian, she’s fine.”

Bastian. The name doesn’t suit the sputtering mess before me.

“Fine? Caspian, she has a fucking blade to your throat!”

I drag the tip lightly over his skin, faltering when he shudders. “So observant, Bastian,” I taunt, flattening the blade again. “Shall I demonstrate how to use it?”

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