Page 83 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
I’m seething.
When we reach the ground floor, we walk for several minutes through a maze of halls and corridors while I choke down my food. Kraeston offers me a small glass water bottle with a smile. He is still carrying the staff in his right hand, using it as a walking stick.
I’m already weak before we make it to our destination; my sedentary lifestyle and lack of food have taken a toll in just a few days.
“Where are we even going?” At least fifteen minutes have elapsed, and we’re still walking.
“We’re almost there, Princess. You can jump back. You need to drain some magic anyways, and I’m not sure blasting electricity through the ground is the best idea for you right now.”
“Why didn’t we just jump over here if that was even an option?”
“Because I’m bringing you over here to train, not nap,” Kraeston laughs.
“And we just have to do this in some official training ring?”
“No, but we’re going to.”
Only moments later we make it to a large, wooden door that Kraeston pushes open. I squint and shield my eyes from the bright sun as we walk out onto the balcony of a sunken circular pitch. Curved stone walls surround the pitch covered in black banners with the Vahnsing family crest—a silver and gold dual faced sun with the moon covering the right half.
There’s a lot of noise coming from below, grunts and groans interlaced with the ring of steel against steel. I sidle my way to theedge of the balcony to watch the ring below with Kraeston right beside me.
A sharp inhale breezes past my lips when I see who is causing all the noise.
In the center of the fighting is a shirtless, sweat slicked Alec, wielding a large sword in each hand. It’s him against eight guards, and he’s winning.
“So much for your promises,” I tell Kraeston.
He laughs. “I never promised Alec wouldn’t be here. I just said I wouldn’t bring him to you. But for what it’s worth, I didn’t know he’d be here. Forcing you out of bed today was my idea.” Kraeston doesn’t seem guilty in the slightest. “You can’t avoid him forever, Elly.”
Peering back down to the fight, it truly is a sight to behold. Alec is utterly savage as he kicks a guard in the chest—sending him flying—and turns to clash swords with two more. He disarms one with a lightning quick swipe, the sounds of sliding metal slicing through the air, while he cuts into the leg of the other, the guard shrieking loudly.
With three down, Alec turns to the rest.
Two of them stop dead in their tracks with just a piercing glare from Alec and begin fighting each other instead.
Another drops his weapon and removes his helmet, putting his head in his hands as he falls to his knees and lets loose a bloodcurdling scream.
The noise makes the hairs on my neck stand in my pebbled skin.
Alec rounds onto the last two guards, twirling the sword in his right hand before dropping into a stance of defense, waiting for them to charge him.
They hesitate, but not out of fear of hurting their king, but more out of fear for themselves. It’s clear the guards Alec’s fighting with haven’t been holding back on him. He’s just that skilled.
Alec’s sweaty onyx hair is falling over his forehead, a different messy look from his usually pushed back style. Blood flecks his fists closed around the hilts of his swords. At this moment, he’s completely barbaric.
My skin flushes at the sight.
Frustration cuts through Alec’s raging determination at the guard’s hesitancy to attack.
It’s only now that I notice the brutal scars covering the right side of his chest. When the remaining guards finally charge him, he releases a roar and returns the attack, showing me his back and where the three jagged lines run over his shoulder, ending just below his shoulder blade. The strong muscles of his back ripple in effort as sweat glistens on his skin.
The sight of it all working together is nearly too much.
A gasp leaves my parted lips.
Kraeston laughs at my reaction. “And it’s all yours, Princess,” he says, taking me off guard, and I splutter. “Don’t act like you weren’t admiring the view, Elly.” Kraeston quirks a brow, watching me with an odd look of expectation. “I can’t help but admire it myself sometimes.”
Fire seeps into my veins, tinging my vision red, and the spools of electric thread in my belly wake—humming and ready to attack. I bare my teeth at Kraeston, and he bellows a laugh.
