8

kaira astor

"You sure are dedicated, I won't lie," Amara's words are muffled to my ears, all my senses seemingly fading and wrapping around Zyran. Wrapping around the intensity of his stare, locking with mine, no effort to even flick his eyes toward Amara. Maybe because he hates you and not her. The thought flows through my mind and I grit my teeth, my spine rigid. "All of Kaira's other guards either tried to f**k her, or didn't even bother to show up." Zyran's eyes fly from mine to Amara's, the intensity in his gaze dispersing. Yep, he only hates me.

I push my clenched hands into my hoodie pockets, my eyes dropping to the ground. "I'm here for one reason and one reason only," Zyran's voice is low and tethers close to a deep growl. My eyes snap up, watching him. "And that is to keep her alive." His rough words vibrate through me. I don't need him to keep me alive, I can keep myself alive. Before my mouth can fall open and allow insults to burst from my throat, Amara shifts, moving closer to Zyran. "Maybe I need protection, too." I can't see her face, but I know her lips are stretched into a sly, taunting smirk.

My eyes shift toward Zyran, his face impassive, immovable marble as he stares down at her, strands of his silky hair falling over his forehead. "Maybe you should find yourself a guard then." Zyran leans his head back against the stone wall, watching her with those observant eyes, roving over her face and my jaw clenches. I tug at the hem of my silk shorts, curling my toes into the fluffy socks I'm wearing. "I'm afraid I won't find anyone as dedicated as you," She inches forward, my gaze snapping down to her hand lifting, mere inches away from his chest. "It'll only be for a week,"

Nausea rolls over in my stomach and I stride forward, Zyran's eyes flicking up to meet mine. I lower my gaze. I can't watch my best friend flirt with the man who has only insulted me. I step past them, making my way down the hallway, but I don't make it far, a strong hand wrapping around my arm and halting me. I twist, raising my eyes, meeting cold, green ones. "Where are you going?" He asks, my shock faltering. "I'm getting breakfast." The warmth of his hands pours through the material of my hoodie, warming my skin and sending goosebumps trailing over my skin.

Zyran's eyes fall down my body, from my fluffy socks, up to the short silky pajama pants, to the hoodie I'm wearing, heat licking up my body. "Wearing this?" His eyelashes fall into a slight glare before the expression falls back to being blank. I drop my chin, staring down at my attire. "Yes. What's your f*****g problem?" I snap, dragging my eyes back to his. His jaw flexes and so do his fingers around my arm, his hues burning through mine. "Being your guard means protecting you, even from other guards." His voice is a mere whisper, but his tone is cruel and lethal. My fingers itch to ball into fists and slam into the side of his cheek.

"Yeah?" I snap, shifting closer to him, mere inches away from his face. So close I can see the specks of gold in his green eyes. "And who protects me from you?" I grit out, rage ripping through every single inch of my body and I'm partly shocked by the intense emotion falling through me. Why does he make me feel this way? Sure, I dislike him fully, due to the fact that he speaks to me in a way no one else has. Due to the fact that he watches me too closely, due to the fact that he tied me to my f*****g bed last night. And, fully because I don't want him here.

Zyran's lips twitch, his deadly eyes flicking between both of mine. "There's no one on this earth or the next that would be able to protect you from me." His voice drops an octave, low and weaved with so much sin and darkness that my breath hitches in my throat. I ease away from him, the choking feeling that there's so much more meaning behind his words suffocates me. The hairs on the back of my neck raise and I yank my arm from his grip, my nose flaring. Another reason why I hate him. "Go change." He nods toward my door and I spin around, marching down the hall and slip into my room, avoiding Amara's curious eyes.

---

"It's so good to have you here, Amara." Mother gushes, her voice scraping along my mind, my jaw clenching. I shift in my chair, keeping my eyes on the fruits and pancakes on my plate, feeling Zyran's haunting gaze fixed on me. I heave my hair over my shoulder and stab at a grape, keeping my face blank as I push the fork into my mouth. "It's good to be back, I've missed you all." Amara speaks smoothly, her voice dripping with confidence I lack. Not that I've ever been much of a liar. "Hopefully you'll be able to keep Kaira in check while here." Mother's words push through me and I stiffen, raising my eyes and meet her eyes.

The table falls silent, all eyes flicking between me and my mother, except for his that stays planted on me. "You know, you could speak to me directly, Mother." Nobody said I had to have confidence to stand up for myself. I lean back in the chair, placing my arms on the armrests. "No one, especially Amara, is going to stop me from doing what I want to do." I lift a grape and throw it into my mouth, chewing slowly as my eyes bore into my mother's. I might be reckless, but I'm not stupid. Just because I don't do everything the way they want me to do it, doesn't mean I'm wreaking havoc.

And, using Amara as a way to keep me in 'check' is the hardest slap they've given me. Mother sighs, straightening in her seat and lowers her eyes to her plate. "I was merely stating facts, Kaira. Ever since Loga--" She doesn't have time to utter his name as I push out of the chair and slam my hands against the wooden table, the plates rattling as I narrow my eyes, the anger coiling inside my body so overwhelming that my eyes blur for a beat, the heat so overpowering that my skin feels like it's been set ablaze.

I lean forward, my lips pulling up into a snarl. "You're my mother, but don't think I won't show you just how reckless I can be if you even think about uttering his name again." The threat rattles through the room, her eyes widening a fraction before it falls away. The rage inside me demands me to break something, to punch something, to wreck something. "Kaia," My father's soft voice pushes through my rapid thoughts. "She didn't mean it like that, my child." The f**k she didn't. The sourness stains her eyes, it flashes through her hues every time she looks at me. I'm sure that's why she remains silent.

I lower my head, squeezing my eyes shut as my fingers dig into the wood. There it is, the title our kingdom gave me. My eyes flutter open, my heart pounding in my chest and I stand up straight, heaving out a sigh. "Yes, she did." I meet my father's eyes. He knows she meant it too. Everyone in this room knows it. My fingers trail over the scar on my left wrist, unwanted thoughts filtering through my mind, and before I can throw out more insults, I spin around and storm out of the room. "She'll be fine." Amara's words crawl down the stone walls and I have to refrain from spinning around and throw threats her way. You're just mad, you're just mad, you're just mad.

I repeat the same flowing words over and over again, the rage clawing at my throat, so immense that I just want to scream. I halt in front of one of the guards, their eyes not shifting to meet mine. "Where the f**k is Dax?" I snap, my eyes burning. The guard shifts, briefly meeting my eyes before staring straight ahead. "He's on leave, princess." The guard's voice is curt, as cold as the stone in our walls. On leave? What the f**k? I groan, racing down the hall. I guess I'll go find him then. I march outside into the garden, taking a sharp left, running a hand through my strands.

My next step never comes, a hand wrapping around my upper arm and yanks me backwards with a force that causes me to stumble. "Where the f**k do you think you're going?" The malice in his voice only triggers mine and, without hesitating, I lift my fist and swing directly for his face.