Page 75 of Essence of the Throne

“Ariella, what—” We have no time for his worries, so I shove his back forward and cover him, rendering his voice silent. The griffin tilts her head back, letting out another sharp screech that reverberates through the air. It feels like a warning. One I don’t intend to question.

The griffin launches into the air just as the massive wave crashes into the building we’d been standing on. The force of her wings pushes against us, forming a current strong enough to scatter the debris below. I wrap my arms tight around Caspian’s waist as we soar over the devastation below. The mighty creature carries us to the highest point of the city—not struggling in the fucking slightest—where other survivors have gathered on dry ground.

The others scream and fall back, some slamming into the dirt in their haste to move out of the way. I spot Gavriel as he steps to the side, soaked with a feral look on his face. Despicable that he found himself safety before doing everything he could to save Caspian.

The griffin descends, gliding gracefully toward safety, her landing so light it seems impossible for a creature her size. The moment she ceases movement, I slide off and help steady Caspian. The griffin watches us with those piercing eyes, and I move closer to her.

“Thank you,” I say softly, my words only for her. I dare to reach out, quite surprised when she allows me to brush my hand against her feathered neck. The softness is a strange contrast to the sheer strength she exudes. I wish we had more time. “Your egg is safe. I won’t let anything happen to it.”

She makes a low clicking sound in her throat and bows her head before spreading her wings. With one last look at me, she takes to the sky and disappears into the clouds.

“We need to find you a healer,” I tell Caspian, supporting some of his weight as he sways. “And then we’re going back to the castle.” My voice hardens with resolve. “I’m done waiting. Your father dies today.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ariella

The road ahead blurs with each heavy step my horse takes. We’ve been riding since dawn, after having rested for a while, and the sun now hangs low enough in the sky that shadows stretch across our path like eerie branches. My muscles ache from staying tense for so long; but I can’t relax. Not after what happened in Meridian.

The sound of rushing water still echoes in my head. My screams. The helplessness as I watched Caspian being swept away while I did everything in my power to get to him. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away the memories—a fool’s battle. Those moments will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life, and likely even after the Angel takes me.

I glance at Caspian riding beside me. His eyes are distant, no doubt replaying the same scenes mine are. At least what he can remember. The way his shoulders slump tells me he’s taking it harder than I am. Of course he is—he’s the one that fucking died for several minutes. Then we left his people behind, deciding thatour presence in Valoria is far more dire than helping the wounded in Meridian.

Gavriel rides ahead of us, his posture rigid. He’s been quiet since we left, speaking only when necessary. Something about his behavior nags at me. The way he avoided meeting my eyes when we discussed the king’s experiments. How he tensed when Bastian mentioned the trials.

He hasn’t even spewed nonsense about my staying back in the trade city.

“We should rest the horses soon,” Caspian asserts, breaking the heavy silence. “There’s a clearing just ahead that would work.”

I nod, though rest is the last thing I want. Every moment we delay is another moment the king continues ruining our chances to fix the Accord. But I do not think it’s the horses that need to rest. I peer to my left for the millionth time since leaving the city, studying each piece of the prince. His skin is sallow and dull. His eyes are struggling to stay open, and I’m certain he keeps jerking every few minutes to not fall off his horse.

He will be riding with me the short distance back to Valoria.

The aforementioned clearing appears—a small break in the dense forest surrounding the road. As we dismount, I notice the slightest shake in Gavriel’s hands as he ties his horse’s reins.

“I’ll get water,” he mutters, grabbing the skins and heading toward the sound of a stream nearby.

Something in his tone makes me pause. Not even a hint of his usual hostility. I’ve heard that kind of forced casualnessbefore—in targets who think me too dense to understand their attempt to placate and flee before I kill them.

“I’ll help,” I announce, ignoring Caspian’s questioning look for now as I follow Gavriel deeper into the trees.

The guard’s shoulders tense when he hears my footsteps, but he doesn’t turn around. The stream gurgles, its sound masking our voices from the clearing. The prince doesn’t need to be privy to this conversation.

“You’re hiding something,” I state in a flat tone. Not a question.

His hands still over the water skin as he crouches. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I keep my voice low but sharp. “You’ve been acting strange since Meridian. Why?”

He finally turns, and the guilt in his eyes confirms everything. “Ariella—”

“Answer me, or you’ll find that I suddenly forget Caspian’s wish for me not to shove my blade into your heart.” The words taste like acid with the amount of venom laced in every syllable.

He contemplates the threat as rage burns through my veins, but I force it down. I need information more than I need revenge right now.

“Tell me,” I demand. “You have one minute.”

Gavriel runs a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. “I don’t know how you do it—keep secrets from those you care about.” He laughs, the sound dull, before straightening to face me. “Thalion approached me after the first trial. Said he neededmy help to free Caspian from his obsession of you, to make sure certain competitors faced specific challenges.” He tugs a chain from his breast pocket—it’s a moment before I realize that he’s holding some kind of locket.

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