“Word of advice?” Caspian whispers, walking with me through the courtyard. “Don’t be yourself, songbird.”
I chuckle under my breath.
As if I’d do that in front of Prince Eziel—Rizer’s son. I’ve always found it odd how in every other pack in the world, the alpha’s sons are known as just that. But in Stormfire, the alpha’s son is known as the prince and heir to the pack because his father rules like a king. They don’t need titles given to them because no one would ever question their titles. Unless they wanted to lose their heads, that is.
An armoured guard appears from under one of the archways. He orders me to stand back when Caspian approaches the throne. I obey and watch Caspian and the prince exchange a fond greeting, a handshake, and pat to the back. They must be friends. For some reason, it eases my anxiety a little. If I fuck up, hopefully Caspian can put in a good word for me. That does mean I’ll owe him again, though.
While Caspian explains why, once again, he wants to enter the trials, I take the opportunity to assess the male before him. He’s much taller than Caspian, who’s at least six feet. The high-necked tunic that frames his muscular torso is a bright gold outlined in dark green. His trousers and boots are the same shade of green but the metal band threaded in his short, dirty-blond hair is silver, like the strange necklace around his neck.
He sits back once Caspian pledges his allegiance and walks away. The moment the male glances at me, his smile disappears, and he returns to his former bored state.
“And why do you wish to enter the trials?” he asks, contemplating the emerald ring on his finger.
This guy couldn’t look more disinterested even if he tried.
As much as I’m dying to say, “I want to enter the trials so I can kill your dad”, I reply instead: “I want to avenge my parents.”
He peers up at me, his body bathed in the sunlight streaming through the courtyard. “What happened to them?”
I swallow the lump of emotion swelling in my throat. “They were… killed.”
The corner of his lip twitches. “I gathered that. Why?”
Caspian’s words echo in my mind. Don’t be yourself.
What would Autumn French say?
Lifting my chin, I look at the prince dead in the eye; crimson, just like his dad’s. “Because they refused to give up what was valuable to them,” I answer boldly. “I want to become the strongest demon bounty hunter there is, and when that day comes, I’ll kill the bastard who took them from me.”
Even my dad, although we never bonded, didn’t deserve to die because of me.
I must avenge them.
“Spoken like a true Stormfire,” the prince drawls, tilting his head at me.
He studies me for a moment, and I notice how he’s stopped drumming his fingers against the armrest.
“What skills have you got?”
“Enough to put Caspian on his ass, that’s for sure.”
Behind me, leaning against one of the pilasters, Caspian bursts out laughing.
The prince smirks. “Oh, yeah? Now that’s something I’d like to see.” He motions to Caspian. “All right, Caspian. Let’s see if she’s all talk.”
Caspian bows dramatically low. “It would be my pleasure, Your Highness.”
Prince Eziel grits his teeth. “Fuck off.”
Obviously he doesn’t like being addressed with his royal title. How interesting.
Caspian laughs and walks back over, his boots muffled by the soft grass. He tosses me a dagger. I catch it but then shake my head and throw the blade into the soil.
“How about the old-fashioned way?” I ask with a playful note in my voice.
Caspian raises his brows and glances at the prince, who merely shrugs and motions for us to proceed. Reluctantly, Caspian unhooks his weapon belt, his holsters, and places all of his weapons on the ground.
“I never raise a hand to girls,” he mutters, getting into a combative stance. “You sure you want to do this, songbird?”
“After everything I’ve been through these past few days? Yeah. I’m fucking sure.”
In all honesty, I can think of nothing better than fighting. It’s a great way to let off some steam.
Caspian bows again, a wry smirk pulling at his lips. “Then I won’t go easy on you.”
“You’ll only embarrass yourself if you do,” I reply around a grin.
This is where all my training at the academy and my personal training should come in use.
Caspian charges for me. I dodge to the side and pivot on my heel, missing him by a hair. He nods in admiration. I tighten my fists, preparing for his next attack. This time he charges with determination. He’s definitely not going easy on me. I block his attack and lift my right elbow, using it to hit him—somewhat lightly—in the face. A little bit of blood drips from his nose.
“Right in the schnozz,” he shouts, and I burst out laughing, remembering the time we watched that Home Alone movie together with my brother all those years ago. It feels like yesterday Caspian used to come visit my home. I’d been like a love-struck puppy watching him from my bedroom window.
He kicks his left leg, and I duck as it sweeps over me. This position brings me at eye level with his most vulnerable asset. I smile a wicked grin and I aim for his groin with a clenched fist. Caspian stops me with one hand wrapped around my hand and the other on my throat.
“You play dirty, babe.” He squeezes my windpipe, just a little to show his superior strength, not enough to really hurt me. “Your brother would be so proud.”
“He taught me to seize every opportunity,” I gasp out.
The prince chuckles behind me, and damn, it’s sexy. But no time for distractions.
I punch Caspian in the gut with my free hand. He lets out a puff of air like a deflated cushion, and my attack winds him for a moment. He has no choice but to release me. He tries to catch his
