Page 52 of The Throne Seeker
“I’m sorr?—”
“Don’t.” He pivoted to face her. “Don’teverapologize for that. You’ll make me think you regret it… and I couldn’t live with the thought.”
Her cheeks heated, her chest rising and falling hard as her lungs fought for air.
She forced herself to stand, maintaining a safe distance.
He came straight to her, cupping her face. “You are everything to me.Everything,” he whispered, gazing at her in a way he never had. “If I carry on like that, I won’t be able to stop… Gods, I’d never stop.”
A flutter flew in her stomach, trying to control the impulse to kiss him again as he continued.
“I want to do this the right way. As the goddess you are, you deserve nothing less. I will have you, Rosalie Versalles. As the gods as my witness, nothing in this world can keep you from me… me and you,” he whispered.
She leaned her forehead against his, reassured by the childhood sentiment. “Me and you.”
He took a deep breath as he regained his composure. “I hate to say it, but I should go. My family will be furious with meif they find me here. Roman’s bound to be looking for me to discuss tactics for tomorrow.”
“Right. Of course.” They’d need their full strength for tomorrow’s challenge—they’d be up at the crack of dawn before long.
Still, he leaned back into her, his mouth so close his lips brushed against hers as he said, “I’ll miss you.” The way he said the words… they had a whole new depth than before.
“I’ll miss you, too,” she whispered back.
He pressed another soft, feather-light kiss onto her lips, reigniting her simmering heart. “Good night, Rosalie,” he mumbled, looking ready to pick her up and lay her right back down on the bed and take her anyway.
Instead, he gave her hand a final squeeze and departed as swiftly as he’d arrived.
Her heart continued to race long after he’d left.
They would win this, and they’d win it together.
She’d burn all of Vallor if she had to.
PART II
THE SUCCESSION
CHAPTER 23
Zareb promptly met Rose outside her room early the next morning. The sun was barely rising over the hills, splashing magenta across the light blue horizon, while the two moons remained visible in the distance. She was instructed to wear her House colors, uncertain of what exactly the challenge would entail, but she knew it would probably involve teamwork, similar to Xavier’s experience in the bog. Just the memory of him covered in foul slime made her skin crawl.
Despite the early hour, the castle’s corridors buzzed with excitement as everyone prepared for the first challenge.
“You ready?” Zareb asked, navigating through the bustling hall beside her.
“Yes,” she declared, burying her building nerves. She finally took note of what he was wearing. “Is that your uniform?” she asked. His red and gold tunic had been swapped for a blue one with a small golden dragon on the chest.
“It is,” Zareb said, squinting out through the bright window toward the grounds, pointing at the clusters of men already active in the courtyard. “Each team is wearing their respective House colors and symbol: the griffin, the dragon, the wolf, and the serpent. Grant’s men are wearing brown, and Tristan’s arewearing red to avoid confusion. The yellow flags attached to our belts will act as our lifeline. If they get cut off, you’ll be considered eliminated from the challenge.”
She tracked his gaze. Although it was strictly forbidden to kill the other candidates during the succession, it didn’t mean “mistakes” couldn’t happen. It was an “accident” when Mateo drovethreearrows into Xavier’s back while climbing the mountainside that nearly killed him. At one point in history, it was even encouraged to eliminate the competition. However, after decades of bloody successions, the council deemed it too barbaric, recognizing it didn’t necessarily call upon the most qualified candidate—just the most brutal.
Her gaze returned to Zareb as the corners of her mouth tugged upward. “You’re one of my men?” she asked, eyeing his blue uniform.
“Of course,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I can’t have you getting killed. I was just starting to like you.” He jerked his head, urging her to follow, ignoring her wide grin. “Come on, we’d better join them. It’ll be starting soon.”
Bright sunlight warmed the frost-covered ground, dampening the hem of the tents. Soldiers scurried about, collecting weapons and armor, while some sparred to warm up. The whole ordeal felt ominous somehow. Despite knowing it was a “staged” fight, it felt all too…real, like they were gearing up for an actual battle.
“Where is this being held?” she asked Zareb, feeling foolish she hadn’t thought of the question beforehand.
