Page 50 of The Sol Crown (Fractured Lights #1)

I stare at him, pulse quickening, unsure if it’s from the adrenaline or the ache his words carve into my chest. My fists clench at my sides.

“Don’t be so fucking ridiculous.” I roll my eyes, the words sharp and dismissive, but inside, I’m scorching.

The willow branches sway around us, their long tendrils curling in my peripheral vision like grasping fingers. I feel trapped beneath their reach, like the entire tree is pressing in, listening. Judging. And all I want— all I want —is to get away before I say something I can’t take back.

“No, you’re being fucking ridiculous,” he snaps, eyes flashing. “Getting yourself twisted up over women who mean absolutely nothing to me.”

“You talk about your past like it was years ago.” My voice trembles despite the venom I try to lace it with. “But these are girls you were sleeping with mere weeks ago, Stone.”

“That’s still the past, Elina,” he says, low and deliberate. We both know exactly what he’s doing.

He’s taunting me.

Dangling the bait just close enough for me to nibble.

And Gods help me, but I want to fucking bite.

“You want a fight?” I ask, my voice dropping, quieter than I intend .

But it carries all the same.

“Fine.”

He doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t toss out some cocky retort.

His expression stays dead serious as he steps out from beneath the willow and into the ring, waiting silently for me to follow.

I move toward him, slow and deliberate, my gaze dragging over every inch of him.

Black boots planted firmly on the dirt.

Combat trousers slung low on his hips.

That fitted black top clinging to his frame, the gold sun emblem of Aladria over his heart.

And then—

His face. Gods, his face . Too sharp, too beautiful, too unfair.

But it’s his eyes that stop me.

He’s already watching me—locked in, unwavering.

Only then, when our gazes meet and hold, do I make a move.

My first strike is fast, a jab at his ribs followed by a sweeping kick, more instinct than strategy. He blocks the punch easily, steps out of range of the kick, but I don’t stop. I press forward, striking again and again, forcing him to move, to react.

“You don’t get to act like I’m the one being unreasonable,” I spit, breath ragged. “You’ve been with how many girls since you got here? And now I’m supposed to what—pretend none of that happened?”

Stone grits his teeth, parrying another blow. He grabs my wrist and twists, but I spin out of it, landing a quick elbow to his side before dancing back.

“No,” he snaps. “But I’d like at least the opportunity to prove to you that I’m done with all of that before you write me off.”

We circle each other, our breaths hot in the morning chill.

I scoff. “You expect me to believe you’ve changed in the space of a few weeks?”

I lunge again, this time aiming for his shoulder, but he blocks it and steps in close. Too close.

“I haven’t even thought about anyone else but you since the moment I ended things with Roxianna,” he growls.

I shove him back with both hands. “Well con-fucking-gratulations .”

He stumbles a step but recovers quickly. This time, he comes at me with a flurry of strikes that forces me to block and retreat. Our bodies crash together, again and again, the blows turning desperate, more about feeling than winning.

I throw a hard kick at his thigh, but he catches it and uses the momentum to take me down. A rookie mistake. I twist midair, landing on my back with a grunt, the breath knocked from me, but before I can scramble up, he’s already there, pinning me.

I thrash beneath him. “Get off.”

“No,” he says, voice shaking. “Not until you look at me.”

I freeze, chest heaving beneath his, his fists trapping my wrists on either side of my head, his entire body nestled between my thighs.

So close I can feel his heart pounding.

I meet his eyes.

And then he kisses me. He leans down and presses his lips against mine. I moan instantly, fighting to release my hands from his grip just so I can touch him everywhere, but he doesn’t let me. He keeps them pinned, firm, and secure above my head.

“You drive me insane,” he says against my lips, his voice raw between kisses. “That sharp tongue of yours. I either want to bite it off or have it wrapped around my cock.”

The growl that rips from my throat is feral, full of want. I writhe beneath him, kissing him back with everything I’ve got.

“You make me crazy,” I whisper against his lips.

He grins.

“I love the fact that you’re this jealous over me.” His body presses tighter to mine, grinding his cock between my legs where I know—Gods, I know —he can tell just how turned on I am. “If only you could see inside my mind… you’d understand you’re. All. I. See.”

He punctuates each word with a roll of his hips, and I tip my head back, eyes fluttering shut, the delicious pressure making everything inside me unravel.

The friction, the tension, the sheer want. It builds and builds until I shatter, his name breaking from my lips in a hoarse, breathless curse.

I pant beneath him, my body trembling as the aftershocks ripple through me. Slowly, my senses return, and I open my eyes to find his already on mine.

And while I expect the usual smug smirk, what I see instead stills me completely.

He’s looking at me like I’m something sacred, his eyes tracing every part of me with reverence, lingering on the flush across my throat and cheeks.

“I think that’s my favourite blush yet,” he murmurs. “The one that spreads from the tops of your breasts to your cheekbones… right as you’re about to come.”

I pant beneath him.

“Let me prove myself to you, Elina.”

It takes me a while, but I finally nod.

He lets go of my wrists, but they fall limp beside my head, useless and aching in the best kind of way. His hand sweeps gently over my right cheek before burying into my hair, drawing me into another kiss.

This one is different.

Gone is the anger. Gone is the urgency.

All that remains is something softer. Sweet, aching, and full of worship.

“Ahem. ”

We jolt apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat, sounding awkward and entirely uncomfortable.

Sam.

I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing at the sight of the blonde giant standing stiffly nearby, pointedly looking anywhere but at me.

“Elina,” he says, voice strained. “You’ve been excused from combat training today. You’re to attend a one-to-one session with the general.”

Oh fuck .

Stone climbs off my body and pulls me to my feet. I stumble into his chest, still slightly dazed. He steadies me with one hand, the other softly brushing through my thoroughly wrecked hair in a futile attempt to tame it before I leave.

The action is so kind and gentle that I can’t help but lean in and kiss him, quick and soft.

The first time I’ve initiated a kiss. His eyes widen slightly with surprise before he smiles and pulls me in for a deeper one.

Intense but brief because Sam’s still very much standing right there, tapping his foot now as he impatiently waits.

“You’re much nicer to me after an orgasm,” Stone murmurs into my ear, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. “I’ll have to remember that next time we fight.”

I roll my eyes and swat his chest with the back of my hand. “Careful, or you might just find me picking fights on purpose.”

I slip out of his grip and hop down from the ring, pausing to glance back over my shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, Stone.”

His grin is immediate. “Later, Red.”

* * *

Our footsteps echo through the narrow passageway leading to the council room. Sam walks beside me in silence, having already let me know that while Carter wants to speak with me, the council does too.

Fantastic.

We reach the heavy wooden doors, and just like before, Sam ushers me inside with a nod before closing it behind me. He remains outside, leaving me to face them alone.

“Your Majesty,” Cael greets, rising slightly from his seat beside Thorn. He bows his head, not deeply, but enough.

I glance at the head of the table, where my chair is empty this time. “You’re a quick study,” I say dryly, lifting an eyebrow at him.

He exhales a quiet laugh through his nose but doesn’t respond.

Suddenly, Davin is beside me, appearing from thin air. I don’t flinch. I felt the shift in the air the moment before he appeared. His magic always announces itself to me, even when he tries to be stealthy.

“Coffee?” he asks.

“Please.” And off he goes again, seemingly evaporating into nothing, but the sight of a mug and carafe of coffee floating in the air near the tea station makes me laugh.

At the far end of the table, Garrin and Verity glance up from a map, giving me curt nods before diving back into their argument. From the sound of it, they’re still debating the Imperian troop placements, and neither is budging.

I move toward my seat but pause when the door slams open behind me.

The sharp click of a cane on stone gives him away before I turn.

Carter.

As always, his presence draws attention like gravity. The scattered conversations end almost instantly as the others shift and shuffle into their seats. All of them waiting for him.

He doesn’t sit.

Instead, he props himself against the doorframe, ignoring the empty chair next to Verity—the one clearly reserved for him.

Ever the difficult arsehole.

I smile.

“Right, let’s make this quick. I’ve got cadets to train,” Carter snaps as if he’s not talking to a room full of some of the most powerful people in all of Aladria. He’s already scowling, arms folded across his chest, clearly annoyed that he has to be here at all.

“I’ve got information to share,” he continues. “Figured it was important enough to call a meeting.”

Around the table, the council stills. Even Thorn stops tapping his pen.

Carter scans the room, then drops the news like he’s announcing what he ate for breakfast.

“Last night, on the eastern border, there was an attack. Nothing unusual, and we held the line. But this time, we captured one.”

Silence.

“Captured what?” Garrin finally asks because it’s clear Carter isn’t going to elaborate.