Page 15 of Sky of Thorns

The young guard gasps in pain as the movement causes him to lay his weight on his injured leg, but he is all smiles and duty around Aramis.

“I had to watch your back, Aramis!” Edmund retorts, admiration shining in his eyes. Aramis chuckles but instantly turns serious. “I appreciate that, but you put yourself in danger. You can’t become the best swordsman in all of Shadowvale from the grave. No more heroics, you hear me?”

Edmund nods gravely, “Yes, my Prince”.

“Now let’s get you on a horse so we can deliver the prisoner and get back to those sparring lessons.” Aramis adds as he puts one of Edmund’s arms around his neck to help him stand up. The young guard is shaky on his feet but he can stand, so he makes his way towards Nero and the other men with a slight limp.

“Oh, back to prisoner again, are we?” I glare defiantly as I stretch my body to its full height, my small frame quivering with determination as I square my shoulders.

“Until I release you into the king and queen’s care, you will be whatever I care to call you,” Aramis snaps. “Now tell me, is Edmund ready to ride?” He looks over my shoulder at the boy who is now laughing with the rest of the guards.

I move my body to block his view, meeting his eyes again as I put my hands on my hips. “And if I say that he’s not safe to ride?” I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

“If he doesn’t leave with us, then he is welcome to stay and face whatever beasties deem him worthy of a snack.” Aramis scoffs. “We’ve already wasted enough precious time. I need to deliver you and return to more important matters.”

“Cause you would definitely do that to Edmund. Sure,” I declare. “You care about that boy more than you care about yourself.”

He grabs my shoulders, pulling me close until our faces are centimeters apart. The heat of his fingers burns into my skin through the fabric of my chemise and a flush creeps into my cheeks at the touch. Goddess, was it only this morning when we were in a similar stance, mere inches apart? Would he have attempted to kiss me had I not scented alcohol on his breath and pushed him away?

“You know nothing about what I care or don’t care about,” Aramis hisses with anger. Goddess, I can see the hardness of his muscles that bulge from his arms. My heart races as I contemplate my temper and its effect on him.

“If I have ever given you the impression that you are anything more than a low life shifter I have no care for, I deeply apologize. You are a mission for me, prisoner. I will deliver you to the King and Queen and I will never see you again. It’s that easy. Now answer my question. Is Edmund safe to ride?” The words taste bitter as Aramis’ fingers tighten on my shoulders to the point of pain as he grits his teeth and glowers at me. I fight my desire and stand up for the battle ahead of me.

“You’re such an arrogant, selfish bastard–” I start, but the pressure of thick muscular arms pushing us away from each other, abruptly cuts off my words.The sudden interruption takes me by surprise making me lose my balance and I fall onto my rear. Lemon lets out a disgruntled squeak. Quickly covering my mouth with a hand, I hope they did not overhear him in the commotion. That bloody male just gets right under my skin, in the worst and best of ways.

“Now I’ve heard enough of ye both.” Nero looks between the two of us, then up to the meager trail through the forest. “We have a long journey ahead and it does nae anyone good to get into a yelling match. Beyond the facts that we are painting targets on our backs for the beasts, bandits, or anything else.” Nero looks steadily at me. “Sybil, is Edmund safe to travel?”

I ignore his proffered hand, pushing myself up from the ground before dusting my body, and pride, off. “If we take it easy and he doesn’t try anything wild, then the stitches should hold. He’s going to need extra food while his body is healing and replenishing the blood he lost.” I nibble on my bottom lip, my eyes casting to the ground as I move a small stone over the toe of my boot.

“That settles it then. Pack up the rest and we will move out.” Aramis reaches down and picks up the leather healing satchel and the coat that has kept me warm during the night, then moves to strap them to his stallion’s saddle. It washiscoat.

“Come Sybil,” he says coldly, motioning to me, but I stay rooted to the spot.

“Perhaps Sybil should ride with me for a while,” Nero offers.

“No,” Aramis growls, taking a possessive step towards me, glaring at his friend. I look up, meeting his gaze. The intensity of his icy blue eyes sends a chill through my body. “If she wants to play with the beast, she will have to deal when it bites.”

Aramis grabs my wrists, roughly tugging me towards him. My eyesight fades as he places a dark silky cloth over my eyes. Panic settling in my bones as the knot on the back of my head tightens. My head spins as I begin to hyperventilate from the loss of my vision. I try to steady my breaths, just to settle my rapid heartbeat. I need to keep conscious. I need to know what happens.

“What are you doing to me?” I argue–just one last time while lifting my hands, attempting to push the fabric from my face.

Rough hands grab my wrists and I’m jerked forward, stumbling over my feet. Warm breath caresses my ear as my captor replies.

“You are my prisoner, not my companion. You’ve been granted too much freedom as it is. So don’t bother struggling. You won’t like where it gets you.” Aramis whispers. Icy dread pools in my core at his words. And the dread, perhaps, isn’t just from the tone of his whisper, but also the promise it held, should I not obey him.

Sybil

Thenextfewdayspass in relative numbing repetition. They removed the tie blocking my vision, but it was pointless to blindfold me in the first place. I am sure Aramis just wanted to prove, once more, that he is the one in charge, and I roll my eyes at the thought.

I spent the days riding with him, now stiff and quiet since our previous argument. Nero occasionally rides up and makes some small talk before he takes off to scout the forest before us. If we come upon streams, we take brief breaks to water the horses and allow me to tend to Edmund’s wound. He is recovering his strength faster than the average human or creature. It is the Goddess’ blessing that he fairs so well as we endure this treacherous pass.

“Tell me more about the Elementals,” I ask Aramis as I reach out and slowly run my fingers along our stallion’s neck. The movement causes my position to shift, my hips pressing into him. His body tenses behind me at the movement. “I have only met two Elementals in my entire life. It was a man and a woman traveling through Bellevue but I never got a chance to pick their brains,” I add, hoping to spark a conversation interesting enough to distract me from this torture of a journey.

“Please indulge my curiosity, your Majesty,” I jokingly plea, and tentatively ask. “It appears that most of you have some sort of magical affinity, and you heal quickly?”

What else do I really know about my captors, except that Aramis is the prince of Shadowvale and has the power to manipulate the air around us?

Behind me, Aramis clears his throat. “Fine. Most elementals are born with some small spark of magic, while others have magic burning in their veins like liquid gold,” he says with pride in his voice. “It’s our magic that separates us from one another.” The tenor of his voice is filled with as much joy as it is pride, and the change is welcoming. There’s a joyful, curious boy in that hardened man, and I find myself begging an audience with the boy as much as the man commands it.

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