Page 38 of Shadows of the Crown

“Lila,” the woman mutters quietly, casting her eyes to the cobblestone.

“Did I ask you?” She swallows loudly, shaking her head. “Did you want to be near them?”

She peers up at me. “What?”

“Fuck's sake, are you all truly so mindless? Did you want to be near them or not? Do not make me repeat myself again.” Lila hesitates before whispering no, though she stands still, as if she's not sure which direction is safer.

“That wasn't so difficult.” I look to the grimy men, curling my lip. “Leave before I decide to render you all cockless for the rest of your miserable lives,” I command darkly. They foolishly block each other's paths and trip over nothing as they run down the street. Lila hugs herself, eyes flitting from me to the street carefully.

“Learn how to use a blade, will you? Because if I catch you in such a position again, you'll be the first to meet mine.” I spin on my heel and stalk away, wiping sweat from my forehead.

The thick air replaces the slick along my skin after only a moment, and I curse the Angel for whatever the fuck it did to the seasons. I pass dozens of wilted plants and gardens as I walk, almost feeling bad for how neglected they appear.

I finally arrive at the guild and ascend the steps, tripping over something on the last one. I hop on one foot to right myself, my eyes searching for whatever caught it, but there is nothing there. My forehead creases—Iknowthere was something…

Two floating green circles appear on the top step, and my hand slaps to my chest as I laugh deeply. “Myst, you sneaky creature. Don’t you know it’s rude to trip a trained killer?” The eyes rise, and her short fur shifts from a grainy black to a pretty orange—the same color as the setting sun. She stretches before rubbing her face along my leg and sauntering to the door.

I watch with a raised brow as she sits next to the entrance, waiting like a princess to be serviced. “Ridiculous cat,” I mutter, stalking to the door and sweeping my arm for her to enter ahead of me, lest she complain to Marek that I’m abusing her. “Where’s Marek?” Her eyes flick toward his office before meeting mine. “Can you fetch Jaxon?” She huffs but trots down the hall that will take her to his room.

I nod to Eva—one of our more reserved students, who is painting the sunset next to a window—as I walk to my mentor’s office and knock, shoving the door open the moment he answers. His head snaps up, ready to reprimand whoever dared to be disrespectful, but his deep-set eyes soften when they spot me. He assesses me like a worried father before settling into his chair, crossing his arms.

“Where’s Isaiah?” I drop into one of the seats opposite him, leaning my head back over the edge.

“Probably fucking his new admirer.” That was more bitter than I’d intended.

“Ari,” he sighs, swiping a hand over his chin, pinning me with a disapproving look.

I wave my hand and stare at the ceiling. “Whatever—I haven’t much time, and I came here to talk to you and Jaxon about something.”

“Talk to me about what?” I bend back further, taking in Jaxon’s reverse, tall form. “Thanks, Myst.” He bends to scratch her head, dismissing the now-gray cat and closing the door softly.

“She tried to fucking trip me earlier,” I announce, muttering about how bitchy she is under my breath.

“She was just having fun. Scouting has been quiet lately, and she’s bored.”

“Well she can cloak somewhere else—I’m not in the fucking mood.”

Marek looses an even heavier sigh. “All right, what’s going on?”

My finger taps on the arm of the chair as I explain events that occurred in the second trial and my suspicions about them. Jaxon will likely need a healer with the way his jaw remains unhinged, though Marek’s expression remains stoic.

“You must be lying…there is no possible way you survived a griffin attack!” I tense, my head slowly panning to Jaxon.

“Are you certain you’d like to accuse me of lying?” He gulps, licking his lips twice before looking to Marek for help.

“Ariella, enough. I understand you’re angry, but killing him will help no one.”

“Killing me?” Our strategist shrieks, shrinking into his chair as I remove my glare.

Marek chuckles, eyes creasing as he leans on his elbows against the desk. “Don’t threaten her if you can’t handle the same, then.”

“Threaten her? When did I threaten her?”

“Jaxon. If you’re alive, you’re a threat to her—you know this.” My eyes get lost in one of the two dimly lit lamps, the men’s bickering stirring feelings from earlier.

I need to move.

I stand abruptly, swiping my hands over my hips. “As enjoyable as this is, I only came to tell you that I am being targeted.” They both snap their mouths shut, focusing on me. I turn for the door as I continue, “I’m unaware of any attempts on Isaiah, nor amI privy to any plans to attack the guild. If you hear ofanythinghappening outside the castle walls, look into it.”

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