4

kaira astor

Bile rises in my throat, goosebumps pricking at the back of my neck. "I realize you must feel bewildered by all the changes happening," Father murmurs, leaning back in his chair. My fingers clench into fists. "You think?" I briefly glance over at Zyran, frustration rolling over me like a tide. He can't possibly think that Zyran would be a better trainer for me. "But, it's necessary. From what I've heard, Dax hasn't been pushing you or taken your training seriously."

My mouth parts, my heart thrumming in my chest. "He has, and you know this." I hiss, taking a swift step forward. "He's been training me for nine years. I can't just switch trainers now." My eyebrows pull together. Surely my father has to see how ridiculous this is. "He's been training you for nine years, and you can barely throw a solid punch or evade a strike." Zyran's low voice cuts in, eliciting the hairs on my arm to stand on end. Heat rushes up my neck. I know how to throw a punch. "That's not training."

I twist around, meeting his cold gaze. "I know how to fight." I grumble, my anger slipping. Zyran's jaw ticks, but other than that, his face remains disinterested. "Do you?" Silence reigns. I'm not sure whether I want to answer that question, terrified that he'd throw another 'show me then' at me. After seeing him fight, I want to stay as far away from him as possible. My eyes fall down to his hands that are now loosely hanging at his sides, trailing over the raw skin on his knuckles. Visions of his fists driving into Dax's cheek enter my mind, and I swallow, hard. Worst part? Zyran seemed to enjoy it.

"I want you to be prepared, Kaira." I blink, drawing my attention away from his hands and focus on my father. "I want you to be able to defend yourself and, to my knowledge, I thought you could." His face twists in disdain. "I can fight!" I throw out my arms, heaving out a harsh breath. "And, I can defend myself. I have been defending myself." My voice falls into a breathless whisper, my fingers falling down to my left wrist, dragging the tips over the rough, swollen skin there.

My father leans forward, pressing his elbows onto the edge of the oak table. "Sergeant Ryder is the best fighter at Lendorr," A shiver tracks down my spine as the words flow over me. Terrified. "Having him train you would be beneficial. It would also ease your mother and I's concerns." His blue eyes soften, the color losing its intimidation. "Please Kaia," I grit my teeth, my anger dispersing into thin air at the plea. I realize that he's only trying to keep me alive, but ever since the guards-- especially Zyran-- arrived, my life has been thrown into a chaotic mess.

I release a heavy breath, my shoulders falling in defeat. "Fine. As long as that's all that changes," My voice is firm and harsh, directed at Zyran and I can nearly feel the amusement roll off him. Father's lips thin, his head falling into a nod and I huff, spinning around, not sparing Zyran a glance as I pull open the heavy door, slipping outside and push the door closed. He clearly doesn't like me, so why tell my father about Dax? To further piss me off? Anger claws at my throat, so intensely that I press my lips into a thin line, certain that if I part my lips, I'll scream.

"Don't worry, princess," My entire body tenses with fear as the words fall over me, brushing against the shell of my ear. "I promise that's the only thing that's going to change, as long as you promise that, that was the last little whine I hear coming from your mouth." All the oxygen escapes my lungs at the weight of his words, my fingers trembling as a slight shiver along with frustration wracks down my spine. I spin around, nearly toppling into him and crane my neck, looking up...and up. f**k, he's massive, especially this close. I don't even reach his collarbone. "You won't be hearing any sort of sounds coming from me." I counter and do my best to lock every muscle in my body, so I don't start trembling.

He stares at me down his nose, his eyes frightening up close, specks of gold adorning his irises. His lips twitch with evident amusement and my eyes fall down and the second they do, I regret it, clenching my jaw as my eyes lower further, only to halt on a tattoo covering the left side of his neck. A fallen angel. Inked in black, the angel's feet starting right below his jaw, all the way down to the base of his jaw where the head stops. It's a beautiful tattoo, tragic, the details painstakingly breathtaking. For a second, I wonder why he chose this tattoo and what the meaning behind it is. For another second, I wonder how I haven't noticed it before.

"Are you going to continue staring at me, or move out of my way?" Zyran's taunts. Heat rushes up to my cheeks when I look up at him, his head slightly slanted to the side. "I'd hope it's option two. I have things to do." I can almost taste the loathing wafting off him like a bitter cologne. I lift my chin, taking a steady step back. "I wasn't staring, I was simply... observing." I hold his glare for a beat before spinning around and striding down the hall, pressing my lips into a thin line as I resist the urge to lift my palms to my heated cheeks.

Light footsteps fall behind me and I halt, whirling around. Zyran halts too, a few feet away from me. "What are you doing?" I hiss, swatting strands of hair out of my face. Why in the f**k is he following me? "Seeing as you gave Dax permission to go home for the day," His eyes narrow, the bitterness in his voice telling. "You don't have a guard following you," Zyran watches me with a cold, calculating look that feels like he's plotting my death.

I run my tongue over my teeth, my eyelids lowering into slits. "That doesn't explain why you're following me." I hate how easily he makes me feel all types of anger. And fear. He pushes the tip of his tongue into the side of his cheek. "I am one of your guards, which means I have to follow you to your room and make sure you're safe." His head tilts, and he studies me with those impossibly dark eyes, like he's deciding where I'm most vulnerable. "If you didn't fight Dax, you wouldn't have had to follow me around."

I catch the hem of my shirt between my fingers and press down. His eyes drop to the movement. "So, stop looking at me as if this is my fault. Because it's not. It's yours." I turn, not waiting for his response as I stride down the hall, his footsteps behind me causing me to quicken my pace. Why does he even hate me? I can see it in the deep green of his eyes, the hatred that lingers there every time he looks at me. Every time he observes me, watching my every move. Does he solely hate me for all the reasons everyone else does? Because I'm the princess? Because I'm going to be the Alpha soon? Or is it because of the folklore? I'm sure he's already heard the stories floating around, of what I can do.

His stare penetrates my skin, hot and heavy and full of anger that prances along my skin. I don't even have to glance over my shoulder to know his eyes are narrowed. My pace picks up as we reach the corner that leads to my room. "You can stop following me now." I seethe. He doesn't answer nor does he stop following me. Reaching my door, I turn and come face to face with Zyran. I take a quick step back, only to fall into the door. "Go away." Why isn't he listening to me? He's so infuriatingly calm, aside from the spike of anger in his eyes, and I can't even get a grip on one of my emotions.

He takes a slow, swift step forward, so close, completely and utterly invading my space without hesitation. I can feel the heat wafting through his shirt, can smell the mint on his breath and the forest scent that clings to his skin. "Don't even think about sneaking out tonight, princess." His hollow hues pierce through mine, quickening the pace of my heart. "Because, I'll know. And, I won't hesitate to tie you to your f*****g headboard, yeah?" Towering over me, he leans down, his face inches from mine and I can't help the images racing through my head. Zyran, standing at the edge of the bed, with my wrists tied to the wood, his dark eyes staring down at me, mercilessly. A jolt of heat pools through me.

I hold my breath, my eyes flicking between both of his. "Dax might've let it slide, but I won't. So, like me or not, you will f*****g listen to me." He warns, his voice dropping low, sending a shiver down my spine. I press into the door as heat flushes up my neck and stains my cheeks. His eyes drop to my face and skates lower to my parted lips. Zyran's jaw ticks and, impossibly quick, he pushes open my door and I yelp, stumbling backward into my room, nearly tripping and falling to the ground.

I catch myself, my eyes flying to his. His lips tilt up into a cruel smirk. "Now, be a good little princess and stay in your f*****g room." His demand filters through the quiet space, and before I can snap at him, he slams my door closed, the wood trembling on its hinges. For a long moment, I just stare at the door, my mouth agape with shock. Never in my twenty-one years has anyone spoken to me like that. Neither has anyone threatened me in such a way. I clench my jaw and narrow my eyes. Game f*****g on.