Page 32 of Essence of the Throne

“Suppose you should,” I tease, throwing her a sidelong glance. “Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you. You’re liable to stab yourself out of sheer frustration.”

She shakes her head, but a small laugh escapes her. “If I did, I’d make sure to miss anything vital.”

“Good to know you have some sense of self-preservation,” I say, my tone light, even as the tension of our conversation hangs in the air.

I think I hear her sayfor nowunder her breath, but she clears her throat and pushes to her feet. “It’s late. We should try to rest.” She glances toward the tent, hesitating. “You know…you don’t have to sleep outside every night.” This is surprising—I’ve wanted to as it gives her space to herself, but I’m not going to pretend the offer doesn’t make me feel giddy.

I raise a brow. “What’s this? An invitation to share a tent withtheSilver Wraith?”

Her expression is deadpan. “Hardly. But don’t think I’m going to cuddle you or anything.” She emphasizes the last word, and I feign panic.

“But how will we stay warm, then?”

She tosses her head back to laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound. There’s no response, but she doesn’t protest when I move toward the tent. We settle down, the space awkwardly small but heated enough.

Or perhaps that’s just the inferno under my skin.

We both have to lie on our sides, lest our shoulders press together. Not that I’d mind…

Just as I’m adjusting my blanket, Ariella’s voice cuts through the darkness. “If you snore, I’ll kick you.”

I chuckle, turning my head toward her. “I seem to rememberyouare the one who snores, not me—or is that only after a griffin attacks you?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, and the smile in her voice brings out one of my own.

For a moment, the weight of everything lifts, replaced by the unfamiliar bliss of sharing a laugh with someone who’s seen you at your worst.

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable; it’s a tentative peace, always fragile but always real. I close my eyes, enjoying as the faint sultriness of her scent fills the small space, and listen to the soft sound of her breathing.

Tomorrow may be just as hard as today, but for now, this is enough.

Chapter Ten

Ariella

The forest’s damp chill seeps into my bones, every step a reminder that this journey is dragging on far longer than it should. My patience, already wearing thin, feels more like a raw nerve.

This was supposed to be simple: find the Palmluvela, secure their help, and leave. But nothing about this journey has gone as planned—something I should expect by now, it seems. Days have passed, and they remain as elusive as ever. I catch myself glancing through the mist, half-expecting to see an imperceptible movement among the trees. But the only persistent presence is the one I need a break from. I did not realize how difficult it is to spend every second of your life next to someone.

And it’s not even Caspian getting under my skin, it’sme. I keep repeating what he said over and over, unwilling, and the damned thoughts will not rest. I need a break from me and my fucking head.

Caspian’s boots crunch on fallen leaves behind me, the sound grating on my nerves like nails on glass. His steps are steady, casual, as if he’s taking a stroll through a garden instead of an overrated forest. The bastard has impeccable self-regulatingcapabilities. Every little noise he makes—his sighs, the clearing of his throat—feels like a deliberate attempt to irritate me. I doubt he’s foolish enough to play such games, though.

“Are you always this restless?” he asks, breaking the silence with the same ease he’s shattered a dozen others.

I ignore him, pretending to focus on the path ahead. Silence used to be my ally—a weapon I welcomed with open arms and sharpened over years of training. But around Caspian, it feels like surrender.

“You could try talking to me about that storm raging inside your head, you know. It might make the time pass faster…or at least quiet the noise a bit.” His voice is light, but I can hear the taunting edge in it. And still, I ignore him. “Ouch. And here I thought you enjoyed my company, angel.” He almost sounds hurt—which I also neglect to acknowledge because something deep inside me snaps.

“I don’t know what the fuck you want, Caspian!” I shout, clenching my fists to keep from ripping his tongue out. I whirl to face his tired eyes; not the same tired as when I found him in the library, but more like bone-exhaustion. I can relate. “You may call meyour guardto those who wander the castle, but you arenotmy keeper. I do not owe you my time, and I especially do not owe you any part of my body, including my mouth.” I realize my mistake the moment I speak it.

The prince smirks, humming to himself. “Shame, I do love that mouth of yours.” My eyes hold his as he approaches, refusing to stray even when his head tilts and he peruses my lips with thesame hunger I feel in myself. It should be impossible to want to fuck him and kill him at the same time.

How does he manage to burrow under my skin so effortlessly? If anyone else dared speak to me in the manner he does, their bodies would no longer have heads. My jaw clenches. His playful banter rivals even Isaiah’s, though the latter knew when to stop his advances.

There were so many times growing up that Isaiah would taunt me, watching just how far he could push me before I lunged for his throat. It may have angered me at first, but I grew to enjoy the back and forth. I never did tell him as much, though. Truthfully, I allowed him to see how upset it made me, as he would eventually relent and offer me one free hit of my choosing.

I usually chose his dick. I would rear my body back and send my leg forward as hard as I could, knocking him several feet away. He may have been my best friend, but he was a pompous ass and he knew it. Maybe he didn’t deserve the exhilarated force I put into those kicks, but he shouldn’t have kept offering.

---