Page 27 of Essence of the Throne

I move past the bed and step toward the far wall, where a chest rests beneath a faded tapestry that’s filled with a crimson forest under a starry sky, the trees seeming to flow impossibly together. Bending to open the chest, the wood creaks before revealing the contents within.

Just what I needed.

I pull out a weathered tent, compact but reliable, with iron stakes that could use refreshing. After stuffing the tent and two water packs into my bag, my fingers reach for the cloak folded at the bottom. Its ratty fabric is enough to disorient me as Isaiah’s scent drifts into the air, stronger than the rest of the room. My eyes burn, and I bite my inner cheek until my teeth jerk from the tear of the sensitive skin.

My mind has been far too unfocused, but with every breath I take in this moment, the desperate rage that consumed me when I found Isaiah’s body builds once more. Thalion has takeneveryonefrom me that he can—not his son, of course, lest he lose his heir and give the throne to a woman when his daughter reaches the proper age.

I have a king to kill, family to avenge, and answers to find.

With that reminder, I set the cloak back in the chest and stalk toward the door, ready to find the Palmluvela and get this fucking trip over with.

The king has a date with my blade, so I best not keep him waiting much longer.

Chapter Eight

Ariella

My feet pause at Isaiah's door when a feminine voice filters through, and I press my ear against the wood to make out the words.

“I just can’t believethe princeis here! Would you like a tour? I could show you our classrooms, training room, where the other bedrooms are…” Isolde. That bitch. She emphasizes the last two words in what I’m sure she believes to be a sultry voice.

I have the sudden urge to rush out of the room and drive my blade into her pathetic ass until she’s bleeding out at Caspian’s feet.

But I wait, curious of what the prince will respond with.

“That is kind of you, but I must decline—” He halts mid sentence, silently requesting her name.

“Oh! Angel, I’m over here babbling and didn’t even have the manners to introduce myself. My name is Isolde.”

“Then, I must decline, Isolde. I’ve already been given a tour.” I chew on my bottom lip, quite pleased with the royal mask he’s donned for this interaction.

“Oh, okay.” She sounds disappointed—good. “Why are you out here, anyway? This room is no longer occupied since thestudent died. A waste, really, but that’s all Ariella leaves in her path: blood and death. Honestly, I have no idea how he was her friend for so many years. I’ve always said he was coerced into keeping her company since she’s never had anyone else. Oh, sorry, you would know her as the Silver Wraith. Stay away if you ever see her. She will just ruin your life. She deserved what happened to Isaia—”

I throw the door open so hard it cracks, and before she can even blink, my hand is around her throat, pulling her back just to slam her body against the wall. There’s a satisfying snap of bone, where I’m sure I fractured her skull. She attempts to scream, but my fingers trap the air in her lungs.

It’s difficult to keep the smirk from my face when sweet blood begins dripping from her nose and right ear. Her head must be bleeding as well, but her unwashed, frizzy hair will soak that up first.

My next words are laced with so much venom it shocks even me. “I should kill you just for daring to speak Isaiah’s name.” Her eyes flick to Caspian, a desperate plea shining through them. “The prince won’t save you. Actually, look in his direction again and I will rip your throat out with my teeth and fuck him in your blood. I don’t fucking care about Marek’s rules—your right to stay alive is no longer anyone’s decision but mine. Do. You. Understand?”

A tear falls from her eye, creating a path through the blood that coats half of her face. Her lips are turning blue, but I wait until she attempts to nod before releasing her. She doubles over before coughing hard, spitting pooled up blood and saliva on the floor.

I spin to grab Caspian’s hand—Isolde will find a healer herself; and if she doesn’t, I’ll be disappointed for missing her final breaths. The prince stares at the sputtering mess on the floor with his brows raised, not noticing my outstretched hand. I cannot discern how he feels about my little performance, but he'll get over it. This is the consequence of him entertaining other women.

My hand snatches his and tugs him down the hall. I release my grip once we’re walking down the stairs toward the common area.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me, angel. I shouldn’t be painfully hard from your threatening aura…and yet here I am.”

A laugh slips out before I can stop it—the things he says are so strange. I peer over my shoulder, my eyes making a show of examining his dick. “Stay hard. We have places to be.”

“One of these days I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you until you lose your Angel-damned attitude.” I freeze and swallow past the heat in my throat.

The man isn’t afraid to say anything that flits through his mind. It’s so refreshing.

My heels cross and spin me to face the prince, who’s a few steps up, leaving me nearly eye-level with the obvious bulge in his pants. Maybe I should let him do just what he promised…

“Is that so?” I breathe, not confident in my ability to speak normally.

He drops the remaining steps between us, pinching the hem of my top and running those icy fingers along the base of my abdomen. Something tingles down the back of my neck. “I really love the fire inside of you. The way you fight everything I say evenwhen your soul isbeggingyou to give into me and your feelings.” He hums when his free hand rubs a thumb over my breast, and I know he’s feeling the hardened evidence of my reaction to his words. “You mask your desire so beautifully, but your body makes you a liar, Ariella. You want me as I crave you, and it’s just a matter of time before you let go of whatever is holding you back.”

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