Page 51 of Shadows of the Crown

His gleaming eyes remain on mine as I position the blade just over his throat, being irritatingly reminded of our audience when the whispers begin.

Have they not been whispering this entire time?

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy when I do this,” I admit breathlessly, the tone of my voice foreign to my ears.

He leans closer. “I’ll enjoy anything you do to me…” A challenge.

My breath hitches when the music changes to a fast-paced tempo that procures many new dancers.

“Sil—Ariella, there you are. I—” Bastian pauses, registering the scene before him. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes.”

“No.” Caspian’s gaze hardens, a shadow passing through his stormy eyes. I pull my blade back and continue holding my leg against his hip when his hand releases, sliding it down his pants after sheathing the weapon.

“Well, thank you for keeping my date company, cousin.” My head snaps to Bastian as my nose scrunches.

“I am not your anything—I’d get that through your fucking head before I become your killer.” His half-smile falters, the color of his cheeks lightening.

The prince laughs deeply, slapping Bastian on the shoulder. “Don’t be scared, cousin…she’ll only bite if you ask nicely.”

Men.

I pivot to walk in the direction I last saw Isaiah, thanking the Angel when he’s still leaning against the wall. He hides his smile behind a drink as I approach, snickering to himself.

“Fuck off, Is.” I jab him in the throat, forcing him to hold out his drink to avoid spilling it. He laughs through a cough, smacking his chest.

“I don’t know what’s more amusing…seeing the hearts in your eyes when you danced with the prince, or watching them disappear the moment yourescortarrived.” He’s prepared for me this time, quickly sliding from my attack.

I snatch his drink and finish it off, grimacing at the overly-tangy cider he chose. “Where’s Ally?”

He sighs loudly. “Bathroom—though I’m worried she’s lost by now.” I lean a shoulder against the crimson tapestry, studying his profile.

“You really like her, don’t you?” His lips purse to poorly hide his answering smile.

“You don’t…” A question and a statement. His expectant eyes slide over to me as I shrug.

“It doesn’t matter what I think…you know that,” I mumble, tapping the compact prison around my neck.

Another song begins playing, the happy tone a deep contrast to the looming conversation. It hurts—what he’s thinking. This man would impale himself on a blade before allowing me to die in this competition.

The reality of our truths squeezes my chest too tightly.

He’d surrender his life to save me. I will do the same for him…the difference being that I planned to die, anyway. It was my fate before the competition was even announced. But if it wasn’t, what would I have done?

I sigh, a finger tapping against my chilled thigh. I know in my soul that I’d have made the same decision either way. Though he will certainly blame himself for my death—unless I tell him of my plans.

I need another drink.

“Ari, I know what you’re going to say…but just hear me out, okay? I—”

“No,” I interrupt sternly. “No, I will not fucking talk about this with you. This will not be an argument; I’ve already decided what will be done, and that’s final.”

His shoulders slump as his head falls back on a heavy groan. It may be the first—and only—time that I am grateful for Ally’s presence. She saunters to our tense bubble, looking between Isaiah and me cautiously.

“Everything okay?” Her hands clasp in front of her as she squirms in place. “I can go if you need…”

I push from the wall and straighten, donning an emotionless mask once more. “Not necessary. Is was just mentioning how he’d like another dance with you.” Her face brightens, and she reaches for Isaiah’s hand as he threatens me with a look that says we will be discussing this later.

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