Page 104 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
Unless… the Sword wasn’t the purpose at all.
A chill crept down my spine as the thought settled, dark and heavy. What if the Sword of Zion was just a distraction? A means to cover her true goal? Camilla had been insistent that the prophecy was a fabrication, a manipulation by Pasnia to lure me into her schemes. But what if it wasn’t entirely false? What if Iwasthe Descendant destined to lower the Veil? I’d already proven I could breach it—maybe not permanently, but long enough to traverse realms.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
What if every scheme, every sacrifice, every twisted game was part of Pasnia’s plan to make me lower the Veil? To free Hyrax?
The realization settled like a stone in my gut, hollow and unrelenting. My chest tightened as I grasped the truth I’d been avoiding for so long.
“I need to talk to him,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crash of the waves.
Clay sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if he’d been waiting for me to say those words. He reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine with the same steadiness that had kept me grounded time and time again. “Yes, you do.”
“I’ve asked him for answers before and he won’t give them to me. He’s vague. It’s like he’s holding back until I give him something in return.”
Clay squeezed my hand. “Maybe I’m not the only person who’s seeking honesty from you.”
His support was like an anchor in the storm, a grounding force when I felt like I might be swept away. Not even he could erase the reality I faced, though. This wasn’t something he could stand beside me for. This wasn’t a battle we could fight together.
This was mine.
And mine alone.
Worse than that, this wasn’t a battle I could win unless I finally gave Hyrax the truth he had been trying to pry out of me.
Clay closed the bedroom door with a soft click, crossing the room to hand me a small cup of water. I accepted it gratefully, the cool solidity grounding me. His eyes swept over me, lingering just a moment too long before a teasing smirk tugged at his lips.
“You should wear that every day for the rest of your life,” he remarked, his voice low and suggestive.
I glanced down at myself, suddenly aware of the snug fit of my protective leathers. The sleek black ensemble hugged my frame like a second skin, the long-sleeved tunic reinforced with crossing straps across my torso. The fitted pants laced tightly along the sides, molding perfectly to my legs. It was practical, armored elegance—battle-ready, just as I needed to be.
Clay moved to the hearth, and with a breath so casual it seemed second nature, flames bloomed to life. The warm glow cast flickering shadows over his features as he adjusted the logs. Then, in a single fluid motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the armchair, revealing the lean,corded strength of his chest. He turned back to me, entirely at ease, while I fought to keep my composure.
“I explained everything to Rankor and Kent before they left,” he said, his tone calm and measured, though his eyes remained fixed on me.
“Everything?” I arched a brow.
He stepped closer, brushing my hair back over my shoulders with practiced ease. “Everything,” he confirmed, his voice dropping an octave. “They’ll spread the word about the rebellion and should be back tomorrow with updates. Now that we know Pasnia is in the realm, I also asked them to talk to Iris. I need to know she’s safe, too.”
I let my head rest heavily against his chest, savoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms tightly around me. “That was the right decision.”
He tilted my chin up with a gentle hand, his expression softening. “So, how does this work?”
I hesitated, chewing my lip. “You’re not going to like it.”
A dark laugh rumbled in his chest, the sound both amused and resigned. “I don’t likeanyof this.”
I took his hand, guiding him to the edge of the bed and pressing gently on his shoulders until he sat. His hands found my waist instinctively, grounding me as if to hold me here, to stop me from slipping away.
Which, to be fair, I was about to.
“Usually it happens accidentally when I sleep, but it’s not always predictable.”
He frowned. “So, we just go to sleep and hope for the best?”
My stomach twisted in nerves. “I actually think I might be able to open a door.”
Clay’s gaze flickered with unease, which I didn’t entirely blame him for, but eventually he nodded his acceptance.
