Page 29 of Crown of Iron (The Crown Trilogy #1)

Seventeen

S weeping yellow and pink clouds adorn the blue sky as the sun breaks the horizon.

A chilled mist lingers in the early morning air, clinging to my cheeks and awakening my groggy brain.

I've abandoned my uniform jacket for a long-hooded coat to combat the cold and cover my wrinkled tunic and tousled hair.

It's a beautiful start to what will be another mentally exhausting day.

Yesterday wasn’t any better. It was grueling coming clean with Kyron and learning about my gift. Although, witnessing Leif streaking past the soldiers was a small reprieve from the stress. That was until I returned to my room and had my first moments alone in almost two days.

The choices I made led to the inevitable, and I thought I could handle the consequences.

I'd never been so wrong. I tossed and turned in my bed, images of the carnage I left behind with blade and fire consumed my every thought.

I'd killed people. Whether they meant me harm didn't matter.

They carried the gift of the Statera, and I snuffed it out.

I thought my hatred would protect my soul. Except now I don't hate all Stigians.

I round the chicken coops and pause when the stables come into view.

Kyron runs a hand down Samson's long neck, speaking to him in a gentle hum. The moisture in the air clings to the general's onyx hair, reflecting the golden morning light. He bends to check the stirrups on the horse's saddle, and I bite my lip at the way his leather pants form to his ass.

No, I definitely don't hate all Stigians.

I divert my gaze when Kyron glances back at me, but not before I notice the strand of hair falling over his eye and the upturn of his lips.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

I adjust my hood, covering my burning cheeks. Part of me wishes I could run into the stable and die of embarrassment, but there is a pressing matter that surpasses my humiliation. I stand up straight and clasp my hands in front of me. “Yes, but there’s something I have to do before we leave.”

He slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and steps closer. “Why do I get the feeling I won't like this?”

“I'm declining your invitation to train.”

“Why? You need to know how to control this. You can't fight until you do. I won't allow it.”

I expected him to push back at my refusal. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who hears no very often. But this has to be done.

I lift my chin and steady my voice, saying, “My decision is final, General LeFur.”

“Raelle—”

“But I have my own orders for you.”

“You're trying to pull rank on me?”

“I am pulling rank on you, General. It’s my right as this kingdom's future queen.”

He stands taller and tucks his hands behind his back in a show of respect, but it doesn't stop the defiant ticking in his jaw. It must feel frustrating to command this camp and have control stripped from him, even if it is only for a moment.

“You're not to tell the king about my gift in your reports. It has nothing to do with my well-being. Beginning today, you will train me to use my power.”

His gaze darts to mine, and he cocks an eyebrow. “You don't have to do this. I'll accept the consequences of my actions.”

“Just follow my damn orders, Kyron.”

A long breath passes through his lips before he says, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, General. Now, if you will give me a moment to get Nortus saddled up, we can train.” I spin on my heels and head for the stables.

“Don't bother. The holster said Nortus only returned last night. He was most likely spooked by the fighting and ran in a panic during the battle. We're lucky he knows his way home.” I slowly pivot as Kyron pulls himself into Samson's saddle and holds his hand out to me. “Come on.”

“I don't… couldn't we just train here?” I ask.

“And watch you burn down the camp with my fire? I don't think so.”

I sigh and place my palm against his.

He pulls me up to sit behind him. “Besides, I know you ordered this training just so you can get your hands on me. Consider this me making your ulterior motives easier.”

I hold back a smile. It turns out that a near-death experience has the general dropping his guard and cracking jokes now. “This new side of you makes me miss when you were a brooding dick.”

His warm laughter echoes around us. “Don't worry, I promise to be an asshole while you train.” He squeezes his legs to Samson's sides and the horse leaps forward.

My arms clasp around Kyron's waist, and I clutch the front of his shirt with my cheek pressed to his shoulder blade.

I have every intention of lessening my hold on him once he lets up on Samson, but he never does.

The horse gallops into the trees on the edge of camp and bounds over logs and rocks, taking the path to the river.

I close my eyes and breathe in the familiar scent of Kyron, and my chest melts into his back.

His power prickles at my fingertips, swirling around each digit and flowing up my arms. I now understand the tug I felt between us wasn't the pull of his gift, but mine trying to reel his in.

His flames, shadows, and ability to feel emotions want me to control them.

They desperately long for it, and I find comfort in their tantalizing lure.

Samson slows down when we reach the bank of the river, and I ask, “Do you feel your power taunting me to wield it?”

Kyron's stomach muscles tighten against my fists. “Yes.”

“Are you scared I'll hurt you again?”

“No,” he answers, pulling the reins.

We stop next to a shallow pool of water. Large rocks rest above the babbling surface, creating a walkway to the other side. The song of birds resonates throughout the open space while the sun chases away the cold. With a quick squeeze of my hands, he unwraps my arms from around him and dismounts.

I hesitate when he reaches up to help me down.

From this angle, Kyron doesn't look so intimidating, so indestructible. When he blinks, his long thick eyelashes reach for the tops of his cheeks, and his eyes glint with curiosity. But it's the sly grin on his dusty pink lips that reminds me he’s a young man with so much life still to live. It’s a life I almost stole from him.

“I'm scared of hurting you,” I quietly confess.

“I know, I felt a struggle between worry and?—”

“Reading my emotions doesn't help.”

Kyron chuckles and leans into Samson, hooks his arm around the front of the saddle, and holds my gaze. “What you did on that battlefield was amazing, Raelle.”

“Was it? Because it doesn't feel that way to me.”

He licks his lips and nods. “Everyone who stepped onto the field knew there was a possibility of not walking off alive, including myself.

Greer was in danger of being one of those people, and you saved her life.

You saved all our lives, and our casualties would have been worse if it weren't for you.

Killing will never be easy, and it never should be, but you must focus on the good that came from your choice.

If you don't, the guilt will destroy you.”

The changes in me are already in motion, and I can't ever go back to who I was. The sheltered girl who spent her time within the safety of the Lucent palace is withering away, and I don't want to lose her. She’s the person brave enough to defy a king and set out on the journey leading me here. If I ever needed fearlessness, it is now. Yet her demise is a sacrifice I’ll make for a chance to have my entire family together.

I shift to dismount, and Kyron wraps his hands around my waist, guiding me to the ground.

“This is all so much harder than I thought it would be,” I say.

“The most important battles are never easily won.”

My fingers dig into the leather of his jacket and my heart flutters. “My father always told me that.”

“He’s one of the wisest men I know.”

“Me too,” I say.

We fall silent, my palms pressed to his chest and his resting at my lower back.

The physical contact feels good. And it’s very missed.

Since arriving here, I've survived off words of encouragement and exhausting activities which left me too tired to contemplate much more than sleep.

Now that he has invaded my personal space, I want to bury my face in his neck and hug him.

Kyron clears his throat and releases me. “We’ll get him back, and you will be pivotal in his rescue if I can help you control your gift.”

“Right,” I say, removing my coat and hanging it on the low branch of a tree. “So, what do I do first?”

A sly grin that melts my insides appears on his face. “First, we figure out what triggers your gift, then we see just how powerful you are, princess.”

My foot slips on the slick surface of a rock in the middle of the river. I yelp, my arms jetting out to the side to balance me on one foot. With a slow, deep breath, my feet find purchase, and I lift my head.

Kyron stands on the bank with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“Tell me again what this has to do with my training?” I ask.

He steps onto the rock nearest him. “It's the safest place I can think of to let you play with my fire. All of this”—he extends his arms—“is your playground. Just try to keep it over the water so you don't light up the forest.”

I sigh and smooth my hair back. “All right, so now what?”

“Call it to you.”

“Like I'm calling a puppy?”

“No. Summon it to you like it’s your own. Command it.”

I eye the flame sparking to life in Kyron's hand, and from the very center of my being, I wish for it to move toward me. The muscles in my jaw flex and my forehead wrinkles as I try harder. Come on flame, come here, I think.

The fire flickers in its creator's hand, mocking my failure.

“It's not working,” I say, releasing a breath.