Page 37 of Shadows of the Crown

His eyes fly over my features, widening when they notice the thing that makes every cowardly man piss his pants.

“You’re the Silver Wraith.” I chuckle, enjoying the way Caspian hisses when I tighten my grip on him.

“Amazing…nothing gets past you, does it?” I crouch, my knees surrounding the prince as I rest my chin on his shoulder. “Who is that?” I speak for only us to hear while glaring at Bastian.

His body relaxes into mine slightly, and I allow him to turn his head enough to look at me. The close proximity I’ve put us in hits me hard.

“That would be my cousin.” I hum, pursing my lips.

“Should I slide the blade across your throat just to see his reaction? He’s quite interesting—it’s pitiful.” I look over when he doesn’t answer, only to find him smiling at me. “What?”

I should be the one makinghimuncomfortable, not the other way around.

“You are very beautiful.” The words dance from his tongue and settle heavily in my stomach.

His confession means nothing.

So why does it hurt? Why does every memory of someone telling me I’m beautiful resurface, and why does my chest feel like it’s suffocating when I realize there’s only one?

Two, now.

He watches my reaction, and his brows furrow as his eyes whisper things I cannot accept. He moves to speak, but I release him and stand before my next heartbeat.

“We’re done here,” I state coldly. Sheathing my blade and stalking away amidst the call of my name.

Chapter Seventeen

Ariella

Afternoon light creates deep shadows along the edges of shops and houses. I stare at them longingly as I pass, suddenly feeling the weight of the realms on my shoulders.

Just one day.

One day to not think about the endless tasks I must fulfill before I take the prince’s life. A finger taps—I could resume my original plan to eliminate the king…I sigh, stretching my sore neck.

One day to not be seen as the Silver Wraith, or to not have groups of people whisper amongst themselves as I walk by, because I decided to not cover my hair.

My eyes flit to several men huddled together as each of them touches the terrified woman they surround. Ordinarily, I would not bother to interfere with the shit that happens on Valoria’s streets, but my training earlier was not nearly enough to stave the raging heat in my gut. My hands itch to play.

I turn on my heel and saunter to the group. They are standing in front of a darkened dress shop that has a large display window with a hanging paper that indicates it is closed. I stop just behind one of the men who’s about my height, my nose scrunching athis musty clothing and greasy, matted blonde hair. None of the six men notice me at first, continuing to taunt the now-crying woman.

It should be against Eldoria’s law for women to not be trained in defensive strategy during their schooling—because abhorrent men like this exist, and the day a woman willingly fucks someone like them is the day I meet the Angel.

I nearly gag as their shifting movement reminds me just how many people in this city do not understand how to use a bath. I almost regret involving myself, but flashes of the prince’s words invade my mind and I clear my throat loudly enough for each of them to quiet and turn toward me. The one closest to me jolts back, pushing the rest into the window. The woman peeks around the ones still surrounding her, her eyes widening before she retreats, as if to find solace in those that were threatening her not a moment before.

If looks could kill…

“What is it you boys think you’re doing?” My voice is sweet. Inviting.

The others look to the musty one for an answer. Pathetic.

“Nothing—just having a little fun with our friend here.” He grabs her arm and jerks her to the front. I chuckle, unsheathing my blade and twirling it idly through my fingers. My eyes find the man who whimpers—whimpers—and I study him. His hair iscut flat to his oblong head, receding at the front. He wears brown trousers with a cream top that is poorly tucked in.

“What is her name?” I question lightly, my tone non-threatening while my eyes suggest otherwise.

The leader frowns, blinking several times. “What?”

I offer a saccharine smile and nod to the one in question. “You said she was your friend.” I take a step forward, one of the cowards attempting to run, but an arm blocks his path as another demands he not move. “So, what. Is. Her. Name?”

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