Page 116 of The Prince's Captive

“Gav? Gav?” Marcella’s voice followed him.

“Wretched she-wolf even sounds like the demon,” Nikias muttered under his breath as he gestured to her with his other hand and spoke to the guards, “Take her back to her cell.”

Gavril couldn’t argue because he could not let Marcella see. He called out past his bleeding lip in her language, “Marcella, it’s alright. You will be safe. You’re just going back to your cell. Tomorrow we spar like normal.”

But he could hear her grunt behind him and out of the corner of his eye he could see her struggle against the guards, trying to look at him as she called out, “Gav? What is wrong? What did he say? What did he do to you?”

“Nothing! It’s fine. I will see you tomorrow!”

And then she was gone.

As soon as they were alone, Nikias turned Gavril back to face him and ripped his hand away from his lip, snapping, “Drop the illusion, idiot. Let me see it. Why you thought you could hide this with an illusion instead of just coming to me or Aimilia—”

Gavril’s fingers shifted and he dropped the illusion, muttering, “You two are the last two people I want help from right now.”

Nikias rolled his eyes as he grabbed Gavril’s head and started slowly moving his fingers in a weak healing rune. “Well for all the time you waste with your she-wolf I don’t see you showing any of this to her and asking for her help.”

The second the rune was finished—sort of, Gavril’s lip was only half healed but at least it wasn’t as badly split and had stopped bleeding—Gavril swatted Nikias hands away and jerked back. “Call her she-wolf one more time to my face and I will split your lip.”

“You have bigger problems, like what you’re going to do about the fact that Father knows she lied and is tired of you wasting your time on this scheme.” Nikias shook his head and started for the door, his movements unsteady in a way Gavril had never seen before. Of course Nikias was always different leading up to the anniversary, but with the next one marking four years, he should be dealing with it better. Not worse.

Gavril had never seen Nikias quite like this before or during the previous three anniversaries. Not even at the funeral.

“She didn’t lie,” Gavril snapped, following after him. “And I’ll prove it.”

But Gavril couldn’t worry about Nikias right now. Marcella was his focus.

Whatever it took to keep her safe.

Whatever it took to have peace.

Chapter37

MARCELLA

Marcella was sitting in her cell, trying not to feel the way Gavril’s fingers had laced with her own the day before when she’d finally held back enough for him to win and he’d been stopping her from casting earlier that day.

She rubbed her hands together, scratching at her palms.

At least his hands were warm and soft compared to the metal contraption that the heretic had put on her to restrain her fingers.

While they’d sparred, she’d tried to figure out what had happened with him and Nikias the day before, after he’d showed her the Heart, but he’d been tight lipped about it. He looked alright, but she struggled to believe him. Something had gone wrong, and he’d chosen to let her be dragged away, hidden his face from her, and let his brother take control of the matter?

She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it.

She lay back on her cot and moved through her prayers, clasping and unclasping her hands as she did so.

She needed a miracle.

If the only time her limiters were off was when she was sparring with Gavril, surrounded by Inimicus guards ready to stop her if she tried anything, she wasn’t going to be able to take him captive. She might be able to kill him.

And get herself killed in the process.

An option.

Not one she wanted to take. No… she wanted to live.

She didn’t want to kill Gavril.

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