Page 41 of Shadows of the Crown

“—must drink—the saida will neutralize—” A woman’s voice.

My head is lifted as someone pleads with me to swallow the vile substance they pour into my mouth. I do just to get them to shut up, reaching for my blade when they don’t. My hands do not listen.

But the lack of my body’s response is not what alarms me.

Several voices and blurry figures surround me as they rip my pants off against my every protest before forcing more revolting shit down my throat.

“Caspian, calm do—next to her and hold—back to her room—”

“No. She stays with me.” The prince’s declaration replays over and over until there’s nothing.

Chapter Eighteen

Caspian

Ariella’s lips are slowly—too slowly—shifting back to their natural rosy pink. I roll her hands between mine, as I have been for three hours, willing them to warm enough that their blue hue fades. She’s ceased shivering, though her skin feels too cold to be safe.

Iwillknow who dared poison her with Harrow. They will pay deeply for this.

The tightness in my chest dissipates the heat when she shifts—I must remind myself of her progress. She’s no longer wheezing, her color is returning, and she’s not dead.

There is no other reason for my puffy face and worried, bleeding lips than I care more than I should. Flirting with the beautiful assassin is one thing…but the manner in which my heart immediately fell from my chest when she held up the poison-tipped arrow? How I was scolding Elowen for not bringing the saida tea quickly enough? The realization that I was trembling so hard I couldn’t be certain whether it was her hands or mine that shook more? All of it was immensely out of character for me…innate reactions to watching her succumb to the poison.

This woman whom I barely know, but desperately want to.

There is so much she hides, though I have the distinct impression that no one has ever cared enough to find out exactly what.

Namely, her essence. To possess all three affinities…how long has she kept such a heavy secret to herself? The isolation from truthful relationships is lonely.

Something I intimately understand.

My hands squeeze hers—not a comfort for her, I realize. My eyes search her unwitting face; the delicate curve of her nose that connects to slightly parted lips. Dark lashes that oddly do not match her illustrious hair. From the moment I saw her in the guest training room, I’ve wanted to run my hands through the silken strands—much like the grasp she had on mine earlier. I chew on my lip.

She’d held onto me so confidently, molding my body to the exact position she desired. It is almost shameful how badly I want her to do it again.

My head turns at voices outside my door. Much to his blatant disagreement, I’d ordered Gavriel thatno oneis to enter, so the sounds eventually disappear. I allow myself to relax next to Ariella, fighting my heavy lids as I continue massaging her hands.

Warm skin brushes lightly over my lips, stirring my exhausted mind. I shift and groan at Gavriel to leave me alone. I’m not in the mood to train this morning; especially after the previous night’s events.

An amused chuckle shakes my head. “I am not concerned with what you and Gavriel do in the evenings, but if you mistake me for that brute again, you will no longer have the appendages necessary to continue.”

I jolt up, my eyes fully alert and scanning the bemused woman I’m…currently sprawled across. “Shit, I’m sorry—did I hurt you? How are you feeling?” I carefully push away from her abdomen, heat rushing my neck at the imprint of my head.

“Fine. Though I do not recall seeking out company last night…so how the fuck am I in your bed?” The heat spreads to my cheeks and her emerald eyes narrow threateningly.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Her shoulders drop as she crosses her arms, covering the taut nipples I absolutely did not notice before…

I drink in this version of her as she thinks. Her bright, mussed hair rests politely over an exposed shoulder; she purses her lips, wetting them with her tongue.

I should have chosen a less flattering shirt…only a few of the buttons are fastened, dangerously close to exposing the lines of her breasts.

“I left the guild. It started raining on my walk back to the castle, but it was interrupted—” Her eyes widen, and she shoves at the bedding, exposing her midriff and black panties. I swiftly avert my gaze, clearing the thickness in my throat. “The arrow. I was poisoned and I…I came to you?”

I nod,suppressing the satisfaction that I was the one she sought out for help. “You did. You were quite…contentious with Gavriel when he wouldn’t allow you to see me.”

“I see,” she murmurs, lost in her thoughts once more. After a few silent minutes, she tilts her head and looks down. “And why am I dressed in this shirt—yours, I presume?”

I raise my palms as an uncomfortable object swirls around my stomach. “I swear I did not touch you.” Her eyes flit to where I was indeed just touching her—I’m fucking this up. “That was not intentional…Elowen insisted on changing your clothes. By the time she treated you, your body temperature had cooled immensely. You were soaked from the rain, and it was worsening the effects of the Harrow, so Gavriel and I waited just outside while she dried and changed you.”

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