Chapter 30

30

Cassius

No matter what I did, I couldn't escape the bloody serving girl. She was always there, haunting my thoughts, even while dueling with Aamon on the fencing room floor.

I pressed my attack as if my obsession was his fault, driving him back toward the training room wall. I lunged, but he deftly parried my blade, then flicked his own within an inch of my throat. "You're getting rusty in your old age."

Annoyance flared. I stepped back from the hovering tip and smacked it away with the flat of my blade. "I'm no more rusty than you. My mind was elsewhere."

"Elsewhere," he said dryly as he readied himself for another go. "Let me guess, were you mentally crossing out the eligible maidens from the list I gave you?"

"Eligible?" I shot him a violent glare. "Not a single one fits the criteria I gave you."

"That's what happens when you give me impossible criteria." He raised his blade in challenge. "You were thinking about the silver-haired woman again, weren't you?"

I stepped forward quickly and deflected his sword, beginning the dance. "So what if I was?"

He lifted his brows and shrugged. "I'm not judging you. I also daydream about beautiful women—though I try not to do so when fencing with a live blade." Aamon tested me with two blows. "Or, for that matter, right before I'm supposed to pick another woman to marry."

Another woman? Ella was the only woman I'd thought about since I'd brought her back from the woods three days before. I wasn't used to the knot of frustration that had rooted in my chest since her arrival.

"It's not daydreaming." I pressed the attack, driving him backward across the training room floor. "It's a bloody fucking obsession."

Aamon stalked sideways, avoiding the engagement. Now his interest was piqued. "How so?"

"She's like a godsdamned siren, messing with my mind. I can't do a single thing without thoughts of her creeping in. How do I make it stop?"

He lowered his blade with a smirk. "Seriously?"

I glared at him, my patience paper thin. "Well? Don't just stand there like a fool and tell me you have nothing to say."

"Isn't it obvious? When was the last time you fed from the vein? A century at least?"

"It doesn't suit me." I struck out at him, but he deftly parried.

I hated the idea of some doe-eyed woman offering her neck up to me because I demanded it. I did not want submission .

He shook his head. "You've been restricting yourself for too long. It's a wonder you haven't gone on a feeding frenzy like that fucker in the forest."

Disgust coiled in me. That bastard had been the worst of us. Our control was what separated our kind from the monsters that dwelled in the woods. It was the mark of civilization. In part, that was why I'd refused the vein for so long—to prove to myself that I was different from the creeping things I hunted. I forced the attack, blow after blow, backing him up until I had him pinned against the wall. "I've been off the vein for years, and I've never found myself obsessed with a woman like this."

He casually pushed the tip of my blade away from his face with the fingers of his left hand. "That's because you're stronger than most, Cassius. Clearly, it's caught up with you. If it's the silver-haired woman you desire, then take her. Drink from her. Fuck her. You're the prince."

An image rose in my mind of Ella lying on my bed, stripped bare, hunger brimming in her eyes. A dream that had haunted me for days.

I sheathed my blade. "The power we wield over them, it's not right."

Her words. I'd rarely considered the morality of it before she'd called me on it, and she wasn't wrong. The way we treated humans was cruel and far from humane, even if it was law.

Aamon sheathed his sword as well. "Well, if you won't feed from her, I could always collect some of her blood for you to drink."

"No," I snapped, my tone harsher than intended. "No one lays a finger on her."

I shoved past him and headed toward the door, Aamon following behind, my overzealous watchdog.

"How do we go about solving this, then?" he said with an insolence I would permit from no one else. "I need your mind sharp and void of dallying thoughts. We have important business to settle beyond the ball. There are alliances to consider and unrest."

I strode down the halls of the castle, feeling like a caged animal. I needed to expunge Ella from my mind like a disease from the body, but the thought of sending her away tortured me for reasons I couldn't fully explain. After everything that had happened in the forest, I needed to know where she was, that she was safe.

Expelling her might make the distraction worse. I'd be wondering about her relentlessly.

Aamon caught up with me as I stormed toward Lorayna's and Bianca's quarters in the western wing. "Where are you going?"

"To get Ella to saddle my horse. I need to clear my mind by fighting something that won't talk back and won't pester me with inane questions. One of the beasts should do. I caught the scent of one the other day in the woods."

"Ella," he purred. "You're on a first-name basis, then."

"It's her name. What else should I call her?"

Aamon smirked. "It's just curious, is all."

My friend let me brood as we headed to the sisters' suites. As we approached the corner, there came a loud smack, followed by Bianca's shrill voice. "You stupid little wench!" she shouted. "That was the gown I was planning on wearing this evening. Do you have any idea what this means?"

Bianca loomed over a dark-haired serving girl with her arm raised. A pink handprint had blossomed on the girl's cheek. I halted for a second, and then my chest tightened in recognition.

It was Ella. She'd dyed her hair.

My fangs extended as my hand flew to my sword, but Aamon gripped my arm. "Restrain yourself. You know who her father is."

As long as their family was favored by the Triad, I needed Bianca and Lorayna's father on my side—at least until I secured the support of enough loyal families to wipe their line out.

I pulled free of his grasp. Fuck her father. This was my castle. I strode forward.

Ella's lips had drawn taut. Her eyes were locked on Bianca, and her own anger was barely restrained. "You requested that it be washed this morning, my lady. It is not yet pressed, but if you insist, you could wear it wrinkled."

Her audacity was impressive.

Bianca lifted her arm to strike again, and I snarled, closing the distance in a breath.

They both looked up in surprise, and then Bianca turned on Ella. "Get out of here! Do not offend the prince with your vulgar presence."

Before I could stop her, she was gone, slipping through the open servants' door, her look of betrayal and shame burned in my mind.

"Your Royal Highness," Bianca said breathlessly as she turned back to me and curtsied. "I wasn't expecting you. How may I be of service?"

I pushed the palm of my hand into the sharp pommel of my blade, focusing my thoughts. Control yourself, Cassius. As much as I wanted to send Bianca's head back to her father, control was what separated us from the beasts.

Instead, I pinned her against the wall.

"Your Royal Highness!" she said in a delighted and sultry voice. "Not while Aamon is watching. Not unless you intend for him to?—"

I grasped her throat. "Never again. You and your sister will never lay a hand on that girl again."

Bianca's eyes widened. "Of course, Your Royal Highness! She's an insolent thing, but for your sake, I will endure her?—"

My hand tightened. "You will endure silence. Ella is off your service, and off your sister's service. As far as you're concerned, she does not exist. She is mine ."

Bianca struggled. "Yes, Your Royal Highness."

"You understand what mine means, don't you?"

She whimpered and nodded. "Of course."

I released her and stepped away. "Tell your sister. Make it clear—if either one of you touches her again, I'll break your hand. And if anything happens to the girl, I will end you both."

She curtsied, then fled toward Lorayna's chambers.

Aamon lifted his brows. "Was that wise?"

"Of course not," I said as I walked away. "But I needed a new maid."