Page 8 of Throne of Ice and Blood
A cry of pain shatters from the guard’s throat as Draven lifts his arm upwards while still keeping his boot on the back of his elbow. If he pulls too high, he’s going to snap the guy’s arm in two.
“Commander, please,” the guard gasps. Pain and terror shine in his eyes as he squirms on the floor underneath Draven’s boot. “Please. I’m sorry. I?—”
Another scream of agony rips from his lungs as Draven forces his arm higher.
And when Draven at last speaks, his voice is so cold and deadly that ice skitters down my spine.
With a firm grip on the guard’s wrist, Draven stares him down with those furious golden eyes. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll break your fucking hands. She’s mine. Got it?”
My heart flips.
“Yes, sir,” the guard gasps out. “Please. I’m sorry. Commander. Please.”
Draven inches his arm upwards another breath.
A whimper spills from the guard’s mouth.
Then Draven finally releases him. He curls up on the floor, cradling his arm. The other two guards just stare at their commander, their faces white with fear, from where they still cower by the back wall.
I draw in a deep breath. I’m not sure if I have breathed at all these past few minutes.
Firelight dances over Draven’s black armor as he straightens again. Without a second look back at his victim, he simply strides straight towards me and slides one arm underneath my knees and the other behind my back.
Then he picks me up and stalks out the door without another word.
CHAPTER THREE
It isn’t until we’ve already ascended the stairs and are halfway through the first ice corridor on the ground floor of the castle that I’ve recovered enough, both physically and mentally, to tell Draven that I can walk on my own. He sets me down gently but keeps sharp eyes on me, as if he’s worried that I’m going to collapse.
This strange protective behavior makes my heart squeeze hard in my chest and my head feel like it’s full of twisting vines. This protectiveness is so at odds with the fact that he collared me with iron and drained my magic not three days ago.
Furrowing my brows, I study him where he’s still standing right in front of me. Faelight gems have been set into the ceiling, making the entire ice corridor look like it’s covered by a blanket of sparkling stars. The soft white light glitters against the ice walls and casts faint reflections over Draven’s impassive face. I narrow my eyes at him.
He doesn’t look like he cares. But he… acts like it.
“Why?” I ask.
A ruthless glint appears in his eyes. “Because I don’t like it when people touch what belongs to me.”
I grind my teeth. “I don’tbelongto you.”
“Yes, you do. In every way that matters.”
“Enough!” I snap, suddenly feeling exhausted and fed up and vulnerable and everything all at once. Throwing my arms out, I shake my head in frustration while I hold Draven’s gaze. “I know that you’re baiting me. I know that you’re deliberately saying that to make me angry. So just stop.”
To my surprise, he doesn’t try to deny it. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t call me delusional or try to play it off. Instead, he just watches me in silence with those intense eyes of his.
And that is somehow worse.
I want to scream. I want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. I want to murder someone. I want to bawl my eyes out.
I have never felt this off-kilter in my entire life. In the span of a few minutes, my entire life was turned upside down. Everything I thought I knew turned out to be false, and everything I had was ripped away from me. And I haven’t even had time to process it. I passed out and then I woke up and was arrested for murder, and now… this. I just need the world to stop spinning out of control for one fucking second.
“Why did you do all of this?” I demand, my voice coming out more high-pitched and desperate than I would’ve liked.
“You’re going to have to narrow that down a little.”
“Why did you try to stop me from winning the Atonement Trials?”
