Chapter Twenty Four

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I woke to the sound of fists banging on the bedroom door.

Moments later, without any acknowledgement of the continuous knocking, the door swung open, and Naia and Danver walked in.

First, their eyes landed on me waking up in the luxuriously sized bed that wasn't mine. And then their eyes drifted to the monster sleeping on the couch.

Danver strode right for the couch and braced his hands on the back.

"What do we have here?" Danver questioned, angling his head toward Caeden. "You're not allowed to have overnight visitors in your room, young man. Especially not ones this beautiful." He turned to me and winked.

Caeden lazily pushed up on his elbows and pulled the pillow out from under his head. He tossed it at Danver's head and the playful fight began.

Naia waved them off and turned to me. Her expression was plastered with worry. "We have a problem."

I had never seen her so worried, so I knew it must have been bad. Without even changing from my night clothes, I climbed out of the bed and sprinted behind her, following her to the front door of the house.

The front door rattled, one loud thump after another and another.

Peeling back the dark curtain, I peered through the window to the origin of the thumping noise and listened to the profanities being thrown around.

The attack stopped as I opened the door and waited a moment before hobbling down the front stairs, body still sore from the day before. Even more sore from sprinting through the house with Naia.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, surveying the swarm of Abneerian palace guards out front of the house.

Prince Roan stepped up between them, eyes wide as his gaze raked over me, noticing the valorian clothes tightly hugging my body, the scrapes and bruises on my face, on my hands.

"I told him not to come here but he didn't listen," Leila said, standing off to the side, shaking her head.

The Prince stepped toward me. His eyes filled with anger and sadness, hands tightening into fists. "What happened to your face? Did he do that to you?"

"No he didn't," I replied, with more bite in my voice than I intended. His words stung like a knife carving out my heart. All the years we spent training together, sparring together, yet he thought I couldn't hold my own. He thought I was weak and naive. That I'd let Caeden, or anyone for that matter, lay a finger on me and get away with it.

Noticin g the equal mix of anger and sadness on my face, Prince Roan took another step toward me.

And I took a step back.

He stared at me. "I should never have let you come here with him."

I forgot- he thought I was still his puppet.

My shoulders tensed as I stepped toward him, hands tightening into fists to match his, until I found myself mere inches from him. "You didn't let me do anything. I made a choice to come here, to help my people. Our people."

"And in the process, you've become one of his people," he sneered. "You're living in his house. You're wearing his clothes. You even act like him."

I suppose it was a good thing my night clothes covered the tattoo on my chest.

"You're being ridiculous. Where do you want me to live? In the forest? Do you expect me to fight in a frilly dress?" I swung my arm out in annoyance and he flinched.

Flinched.

My head jolted back in shock. Utter shock at the fact that he flinched.

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away fast.

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