Page 72 of Shadows of the Crown

The intimacy of this moment is not lost on me, but the memory of why I’m here hits me hard—a distraction. But if this was merelya distraction, then why does admitting it hurt so badly? Why can I never just be honest with myself?

I sigh a long breath…because everyone I care for ends up murdered. And suddenly the thought of the prince dying is more frightening than what might happen if he lives.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ariella

“What?” Caspian shakes his head idly, scrutinizing a strand of my hair. He shifts inside me as he leans forward to look at it more closely, my overly-sensitized intake of breath snapping him from concentration.

“I just thought…it’s nothing.” He smiles brightly, dropping my hair. He smirks in an utterly satisfied male way when my features contort as he slowly pulls out before pointing a finger at me. “Stay right there, or I won’t let you use your blades on me any longer.” My stomach dips. I do not need to tell him that he doesn’tletme do anything—he knows. The look on his face begs me to fall for his attempt at annoying me.

He disappears into the bathroom before walking back toward me with a wet cloth. When his feet stop mere inches away, I avert my eyes from his still partially hard cock. He chuckles.

“Like what you see, angel?” A playful smile pulls at my lips as my eyes unhurriedly drink him in. I scrunch my nose and shrug before leaning back, bored.

I hum, “It’s all right.” He bellows a laugh, throwing his head back. I fight the unsettling heaviness in my chest and push to drop from the desk, blocked by hisall rightbody when he steps closer.

“I swear the Angel sent you to this realm just to humble me.” He reaches the cloth toward my thighs, my hand snapping to grip his wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His confused expression does not match the hardness of mine.

“Cleaning you?” That…is not what I’d expected him to say. I search his face, though he only watches me with growing understanding. “Do not tell me your other…partners,” he spits, “have never made sure you were cared for?” I think I shake my head—I’ve no idea why this seems so important to him.

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m certainly capable of cleaning myself, prince.” My head tilts. “Though, if it’s pregnancy you worry about, I can assure you I consume the cilla leaf each month.”

He waves a hand. “As do I, but that’s not what I’m referring to.” Still distractingly naked, he shuffles between my legs once more. “I was going to tease you—how I finally know something the Silver Wraith does not…” His hands slide over my hips, cupping my backside before pulling me forward. The chill of the cloth causes my skin to pebble under his touch. “But my amusement is not worth the expense of how you’ve never been cared for or protected properly.”

Why I feel the need to defend myself is lost as I open my mouth to keep pushing him away. “I’ve learned to do both for myself just fine; I do not need you to coddle me.” His sad, pitying smile grates my nerves—a cold reminder of the different lives we come from.

“Sure…you were forced to learn how to wield a blade to protect your skin. How to clean this beautiful hair. How to live on your own, because there was no one left to live with you—”

“I don’t need a fucking history lesson. I know what I went through.” I swallow around the burning words.

“But,” he enunciates, pressing a light kiss to each corner of my mouth. “You’ve never had the chance to be human. You learned to shut off your emotions and desires. You build a wall the moment someone is kind to you because you don’t know how to handle it, just like you’re doing right now.” Am I?

I scoff—of course I do that…if I don’t let anyone close to me, no one gets hurt. It’s simple.

“And this, Ariella.” He brings the cloth to my center, cleaning our cum from me more gently than I thought could be possible. “This is me caring for you. I know you can do it yourself…but Iwantto do this. You shouldn’t feel like I’ve only used your body to fuck, just to toss you aside afterward. You should feel cherished,” he breathes, kissing my cheek. “Appreciated.” Another kiss. “I want your bodyandmind to feel safe and valued with me. I will not hurt you, angel.” It’s like he’s seen my every fear—howhe knows this much is alarming, causing my heart to beat fast in my chest.

But there’s one thing he forgot to consider.

“That may be, prince…but Iwillhurtyou.”

His eyes lighten as he shrugs. “You’re worth anything you wish to do to me.” He squeezes my thigh before returning to the bathroom. I hop from the desk and hurriedly slide on my pants, pulling my shirt down just as he walks back into the room.

I suddenly feel uncharacteristically nervous, blurting the first thing that comes to my head. “I read my father’s journal.” I wince—fucking fool. He slips from his closet as loose pants settle on his hips.

Of course, he forgot to don a shirt, and his knowing smile confirms just how intentional that was. I roll my eyes, holding his gaze as he saunters over to me and leans a hip against the desk.

“What did you find?”

For a moment I consider leaving without answering, but something tugs in my head. “A lot, though the most interesting information was written just before your father killed mine.” He winces at the reality I haven’t directly addressed with him. The horrible truth that intertwines us—the thing that I’ve wanted his life for while he pitied mine.

I open my mouth to tell him of my findings, but pause when my eyes catch the royal crest glaring at me from the wall. This isthe son of the man I’ve hated my entire life. His father ripped my family from me; forced me into a life that I never wanted.

And Isaiah.

His family took everything from me, and yet I’m standing in his room after fucking him, about to spill all the secrets that had gotten my father murdered in the first place. I cannot trust him…I shouldn’t.

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