Page 121 of A Sweet Destruction

“One of the arrows was on a clear path towards Esme,” I said, though the words felt like they were scraping their way out of my throat past barbed wire. I really didn’t know how I would have reacted if the shot had hit its target. “I managed to catch it.”

It took several seconds for the statement to register. To be fair, I had said that last part quite casually.

It was Bellamy who spoke. “And have you been known to snatch arrows out of the air before this?”

I barked a laugh, then said, “No. That was a first for me.”

“You have the Bond to thank, then,” Soren said sardonically, even though he’d experienced the supernatural influence of the Bond himself, having carried Bellamy’s dead weight on the back of a galloping horse for miles, only to collapse in exhaustion and an indeterminate number of injuries the second she was safe.

I grumbled out my agreement. “Damn thing shredded my hand.” Esme jerked next to me, squeezing my hand even tighter. Turning my palm upwards, I threaded our fingers together, squeezing tight. If not to show her that everything was in working order and I still had my strength.

“That explains the blood,” Freya said. She was looking down at her lap when she said it, fiddling with something in her grasp, so it took her a second to realize that everyone was expecting her to expand on that statement. When she looked up and saw everyone staring, her cheeks colored with a blush.

“Oh, um, I rode out with Starlight after you guys left. Bellamy went to go find Soren. Elijah followed me.” Freya paused for a second, swallowing between sentences. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, it looked like her cheeks deepened in color even further. “We found the arrows. I know you said you cut your hand then found one of the arrows, but the arrow was really embedded into the ground.”

“Well, that is going to be a little hard to explain,” I quipped. Hard to pass it off that I dropped it when it was cemented like that.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Freya said, furrowing her brow in confusion. “I told him that whoever shot the arrow must have injured their hand. It would have transferred blood when the reached for the arrow to load the bow. You said someone fell, so I said it was likely them.”

I didn’t remember sharing that bit of information with Freya, but it was clearly a good thing. Let alone her pulling a rather seamless excuse out of thin air to explain it.

It was good, but it might not be enough. “We were pretty damn far at that point—”

“Which again, I want to know what bow they were working with. That would have been an insane shot,” Esme cut in, making my expression lighten from pure wonder at her ability to find humor at a time like this. It was a trait I respected tenfold and desperately needed to adopt myself.

“—but someone might have seen me catch it.” Even as I said it, the words seemed impossible. It was impossible, but the Bond specialized in making those feats a reality, especially when one’s paranima was at risk of harm. “If they were sent by Elijah and Caspian, they would be able to know they weren’t injured.”

“Let’s hope none of that is true,” Soren said with a small sort. I was about to make a quip about him being unhelpful, but he continued, “We have a leg up right now. We’re done with a peace agreement. We meant to tell you this before everything happened, but we’d agreed to head back to camp tomorrow. Organize a meeting with Bellamy’s father to get the official sign off.”

It was not lost on me that Soren didn’t refer to him as the Emperor. I was sure it was a mix of his own royal haughtiness and his disdain for that man. He’d always hated him, incredibly justified seeing as he orchestrated Soren’s conscription, but in recent months, his dislike had shifted from his own personal gripes to the way he treated Bellamy.

“The ever-wise Prince Caspian should be concerned that this will blow up everything we’ve worked for,” Soren finished.

Bellamy laughed under her breath at that. “I’m sure he is. He might be young, but he does seem smart. Hell, the Queen sent him by himself to negotiate.”

“I’m sure Elijah and his aunt are whispering in his ear, but still, that’s—”

Freya’s back went straight so fast, it made a snapping sound that cut off the rest of Soren’s sentence. Her eyes were centered on the door as if she could see through the wood to the other side.

Esme turned to her, about to ask her what happened when we heard the footsteps. Heavy boots and confident strides that needed no further explanation as to who they belonged to.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Soren rise, but my eyes were still watching Esme watch Freya. I’d gather far more from trying to understand Esme’s expressions than anyone else and there was something deeply observant about her face.

I snuck a look at Freya, who still had her eyes on the door, whether from pure interest or to pointedly ignore the way Esme was looking at her—I couldn’t be sure.

I would be asking Esme about that later, but right now, Soren was opening the door to Caspian and Elijah.

The former looked over Soren’s shoulder as if he wasn’t even there. “Ah, my sweet serpenia! I’m glad to see you’re well.”

That fucking nickname. I’d tolerated it for the sole purpose of not causing a disruption in our negotiations. It probably wouldn’t have gone over well if I tried to strangle Caspian for the way he looked at Esme, let alone for the fact that he was a good seven years younger than her.

So soon after the events of the day, I could feel my control bowing to the Bond’s snarling possessiveness. White spots danced around my vision, as if I was going to fully black out and let the Bond take over, right as Esme stepped up into my side.

Her arm snaked around my back, latching onto my side and bringing us flush together. It was only once we were cemented against each other that Esme answered Caspian. “Yes, my paranima and I are both doing well.” It was not lost on me how intentional Esme’s words were, nor how quickly they made the Bond retreat in its attack. “I assume you’ve come to make sure that we know it was not you who organized that little surprise?”

Caspian laughed, while Elijah didn’t seem to find anything remotely funny about this conversation. His jaw was hard, his eyes shadowed with an intensity I’d never seen before.

“Of course, that’s why we’re here,” Caspian said, throwing a hand over his chest. Without asking, Caspian stepped over the threshold and reached his hands out towards Esme. She looked at his offering, paused, then looked back up at him without so much as a twitch of her free hand. Caspian, to his credit, just moved right on. “I cannot express enough how ashamed I am that your romantic ride through our beautiful forests was interrupted the way it was.”