“Iver,” Eislyn warned.
“What history?” I couldn’t keep myself from asking.
“The history of my friends Kole and Eislyn.” He spoke casually while Eislyn’s jaw clenched. “Well, allow me to enlighten you. You see, Kole and Eislyn were once madly in love and were due to bemated. In fact, that shoulder she always keeps covered bears his mark, a claim as her mate forever imprinted on her skin.”
Iver continued, “But first, there is something you need to know. When he was a boy, Kole used to be head over heels for my sister. Would follow her around like a puppy dog. And eventually, as any neglected pup would do, he finally found someone who gave him the time of day, and his attention switched to Eislyn. Now my sister is lovely, but she is not without flaws. Jealousy overcame her, for even though she did not love Kole, she did love having his eye. So, she set up a plot where she could be alone with him, and she kissed him. But this plot included not only a kiss; she also meant for everything to be seen by the one who held his attention.”
Iver’s gaze cut to Eislyn as he continued speaking of her. “But that person could not handle such pain and lashed out. She found some skinny Lysian tart and slept with her, thus breaking Kole’s fragile heart.” Iver looked at me and laughed. “I know you Bavadrins are rigid when it comes to sexuality, but here we are not. One can be with whomever they desire. Eislyn here cares more about fitting with her partner on a personal level rather than caring for their anatomy. Though I doubt the tart was picked for anything other than ease of wielding her into a blade that sliced into Kole’s heart.”
Eislyn moved so quickly I did not even have a chance to be startled. She used a wooden staff to sweep at Iver’s legs, bringing him to the ground. Moments later, she straddled him, pressing the staff into his neck. His hands gripped the wood, keeping it from crushing his throat.
“If you see me as the evil one who destroyed poor Kole’s heart, then you knownothing,” she panted, tired with rage.
Iver growled before maneuvering out of Eislyn’s hold. They went round and round. The way Iver moved with effortless grace made him appear untouchable. Eislyn was not as light on her feet nor as quick, though she got out of every one of Iver’s assaultsuntil he finally pinned her to the ground, her face in the dirt. He twisted her arm back, and she hissed in pain.
“The entire thing was staged, Eislyn. Iona wanted you to see her kissing him,” Iver growled, anger rippling through him.
“Was it staged for him to kiss her back, for his hands to move over her lower back as if welcoming the embrace?” She bit the words out as if they tasted sour, the pain still raw. It was a wound that had festered, never closing. I imagined that it at times scabbed over only to be picked at and re-opened, never healing.
“It is time that the two of you let this go.” Iver spoke through clenched teeth, and it was the first time I had ever seen him anything other than calm and collected. For some reason, he was furious.
“If you don’t break my arm, then I am going to kill you with it,” she growled.
Iver twisted her arm further in response, until Eislyn cried out. There was no hesitation in his gaze, only an icy determination. He truly was going to break it. They were going to destroy one another.
Without thinking, I reached for a staff and stood, pointing the end at Iver’s throat without touching him.
Surprised, he eased the pressure from Eislyn’s arm, and her body relaxed underneath him.
“A Bavadrin standing between two Lysians. That is bold of you,” Iver said, his attention entirely on me. “Just because you did not die last time you faced a Lysian does not mean you are equipped for such a challenge.”
“Please. Stop hurting each other.” My words were a plea.
Iver released Eislyn and rose to his feet. I moved as well, keeping the end of the staff pointed at his throat without touching him. Eislyn rolled to the side and onto her feet as soon as she was able.
My hands hurt from the hold I had on the staff, knucklesturning white. I was so rigid that I did not have the capabilities to release the weapon when Iver reached out. Taking it in his hands, he yanked me forward. By the time I released it, I was already flying towards the Lysian. He threw the staff to the ground as the distance between us shrank. His hand gripped the back of my neck, keeping me from backing away. Strong fingers curved around the tendons of my throat, controlling my head, and forcing me to meet his eyes. I was in the clutches of power, and the only hope of escape was the fact that his King did not wish for my death.
“Why did you do that, Ariana?” Iver’s voice was incredibly calm.
A tremble scampered through me.
“You were hurting her,” I answered.
“Iver, let her go,” Eislyn cut in, though he did not seem to hear her request.
“And you are not concerned whether I may hurt you? You care for her enough to risk your life?” Gray eyes bore into mine, demanding an answer.
“I hoped I was not truly risking it.”
Surprise touched his features. “By threatening me?”
“That was not my intention. The staff was meant only to provide a buffer between us, to protect me were you to react unfavorably. It was never intended to be used if unprovoked. I never touched you with it.”
Iver smiled and suddenly released me.
I had been trying to pull away from him so when the pressure of his hand on the back of my neck vanished, I had to catch myself from completely falling backward.
“Let’s go, Ariana.” Eislyn picked up the sparring sticks and turned to me, completely ignoring Iver.
