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I chuckle as she walks off to find Florence, and I shake my head, watching her go. The dragon kings really, really didn’t think this whole race through. What if nobody here actually likes guys? I don’t think Livia does. I think she’s half in love with Florence already. That’s going to be interesting when she wins this. Not that I care who wins. I’m not going to be here for long to witness the fallout. Lysander will take me home…even if there is a high price for my freedom. Arden.
I’ve stupidly grown to like the bastard over the last two months here. He is funny, charming, and has a morbid sense of humour. But more than that, there is a sadness in his eyes that I want to know more about. It doesn’t help that he is goddamn gorgeous. I’m so stupid. I can’t grow feelings for him. I push my chair back and walk down the corridor to find some fresh air. To find an escape.
The castle leads me into the main hall, the several staircases drifting in different directions are empty, and everything is so silent. A reckless part of me wants to go and see the kings, to see what they’re doing on this Saturday night, like we are friends. It’s been several weeks since the water test, since I nearly died, and I’ve seen all of them way too many times.
Emrys meets me on the balcony some nights, and we talk for hours, and I’ve had countless mornings with Grayson. He never lets me touch more than his hands, and he certainly doesn’t speak to me anymore. He just comes in, takes me for training, and barks orders at me like I’ve personally insulted him. I would tell him to fuck his lessons with his attitude, but I’m getting better, quicker, faster at all of this. I can feel my muscles burning, getting stronger, and I need the training. My body feels like it’s exhausted after every training lesson before I even go to my tutoring lesson. Hope still systematically beats me, but Grayson is teaching me how to dodge her moves and how she would fight me. She would have been taught to fight like them, and he knows her. Though I wish he would talk more. It’s kind of boring most mornings.
Matron walks down the steps, seeing me, and pauses. “Are you lost?”
I shake my head. “No…”
She lifts her head higher. “You are lost, Ellelin. Perhaps you should ask the castle to find yourself.”
I frown at her cryptic words as she turns, walking back the way she came. She looks back at me once, almost like she is going to say something more, but she changes her mind and keeps going.
A door appears to my left, and I frown at it. Hopefully, no one hears me. “If you’re taking me back to see the prison woman again, I’m not interested. It’s creepy. Find someone else to keep her entertained.”
The door creaks open slightly. I sigh, knowing that I don’t have much of a choice. I have a feeling that if I tried to walk away, the castle would just send me where it wants me to go anyway. It seems to have a bit of a sassy personality like that. I walk through the door, down a slim corridor, and turn the handle of the door on the other side. I step out into the dragon kings’ living room, and all four of them are here. Hope too. Crap.
Hope is sitting on Lysander’s lap, and he is missing a shirt—and he is toned. Fit, not a tiny bit of anything but muscle on his chest and stomach, even sitting. Now I’m jealous. Hope’s hand is wrapped around a glass of red wine, and her laugh dies off as she follows Lysander’s green gaze to me.
“How is she allowed in here?” Hope snaps, narrowing her eyes at me. “Are you guys seriously letting her in here? This is our space.”
Arden ignores her, rising off the couch, his white shirt pressing against his muscles. He has a beer in his hand. “Don’t get jealous, Hope. It doesn’t look good on you. Welcome, princess. I was hoping you’d come back.”
He comes over to wrap his arm around my shoulders, and he pulls me down to sit on the sofa between him and Grayson. Grayson makes sure not an inch of our bodies is touching. Lysander just glares at me, Hope draped over him in a small black dress that is not uniform. How’d she get the castle to give her that to wear? I mostly get black leggings and matching short crop tops, with a cloak to cover me up. Grayson looks down at me with annoyance flashing in his eyes, his hands resting on his long legs. He is dressed casually, like he does in our training, but his tone is anything but. “Why is she here? Who showed her our place?”
The other three look warningly at Grayson. Hope is too busy trying to distract Lysander to care if Grayson is going to lose it. He is a ticking time bomb at the best of times, and I don’t think he takes change well. I take the beer out of Arden’s hand. “Maybe I just wanted to drink, and you should, too. Being serious twenty-four seven is going to give you a heart attack.”
Grayson coldly looks down at me. “Dragons don’t die from heart attacks.”
“Really?” I sarcastically reply, taking a deep sip. Arden and Emrys chuckle. “It was a joke. Look, I told the castle I was bored, or I thought it, and here we are.”
“My question was, how do you know how to get here? You have to be invited,” Grayson slowly asks.
I shrug. “Emrys brought me here. He’s nice like that. Not like you.”
Grayson turns his glare on Emrys. Problem solved. Arden leans down close to my ear. “You’re causing trouble between us, princess. Tut, tut.”
I glance at Lysander. Trouble was already there.
Emrys winks at me. “I’m going to get more beer. Chill, Grayson. She’s here now and a tiny mortal. How much trouble could she cause?”
I chuckle. The beer is downright disgusting, but I don’t comment on that as I drink some more before handing it back to Arden. Hope possessively attaches herself to Lysander, leaving her drink on the side to kiss his neck, stroking her hands down his chest. Lysander doesn’t seem to notice her efforts as he watches me. My cheeks burn as I look away. Emrys comes back a few moments later, this time with a glass of red wine, and he hands it to me. “This is better than Arden’s terrible beer.”
“Hey! I made it myself, and it’s not bad,” Arden protests.
“It definitely is bad,” I say with a grin. I take a long drink of the wine and accidentally moan in appreciation. The wine is absolutely delicious, and when I open my eyes, I find all of them watching me to the point it gets awkward. I can’t read their gazes. “So, is this what you do on a Saturday night? Sit here and drink?”
“It’s almost a tradition for our weekends,” Arden murmurs. “But I enjoy having you here with us more.”
“Stop flirting with the poor girl,” Emrys tells him.
Arden only grins at me. “She loves it, really.”
Arden’s arm is wrapped around the back of the sofa, his fingertips brushing my shoulder every now and then. Even through my clothing, the soft touch sends shivers down my spine. Lysander’s eyes flicker to Arden’s fingertips on my shoulder, darkening slightly before he smirks at me. I’m doing what he wants, and for a moment, it makes me sick to my stomach. He finally stops looking at me, drifting his eyes to Hope.
“You two should get a room,” Grayson dryly comments.
