Her guard, her temptation

1

kaira astor

"It's only to keep you safe." His deep, calloused voice echoes through the silent room. My hand around the fork tightens, scraping the metal across the plate. Out the corner of my eye, I watch as my mother's shoulders stiffen. "Once we're certain all threats are eliminated, they'll be gone." He continues, the heat of his angered stare prickling on the side of my face. Breathe, breathe, breathe. I lean back in the chair, dropping the fork, and raise my gaze to meet his cold, dark blue eyes. My eyes. The same exact color.

Starting another argument with him is only going to stiffen the situation more, given the circumstances. As in four weeks ago, three attempted assassinations have breached the castle-- all for me. No information has been gathered, no knowing why, how or who. Only that, my death is what they want. It's what everyone seems to want. "When?" My question leaves apparent confusion on my father's face, his dark brown brows dipping low. His eyes rove over my expression before his forehead smooths out.

"They'll be arriving in a few hours. They've been traveling from Lendorr since yesterday." My father informs, the golden rings adorning his fingers glinting under the light as he leans forward and lifts his wine glass, taking a tensive sip. Lendorr? A shiver wracks down my spine. Lendorr is known for their cruelty and brutality. The kingdom of warriors. I swallow the lump in my throat and rest my wrist against the edge of the oak table, tapping my finger against the surface as I contemplate my next set of questions. "How many of them?" Bile rises in my throat as I ask, knowing that I won't like the answer he'll give me.

I can protect myself. I have been protecting myself. My father presses his lips into a thin line, his nose flaring as he sighs. "Fourteen guards." Fourteen? My lips part, my fingers curling into fists and my eyes narrow. Fourteen guards following me around? He must have lost his mind. The tension in the room spikes, looming in the air between us. "No." I grit out through clenched teeth, my body tense with anger. "The decision has already been made, Kaira." My father's voice threads close to being a low rumble of authority. "I will not have fourteen guards trailing after me," My fingers dig into my palms, the sting momentarily scarping away the rage.

"That is just completely ridiculous, even for you." I spit out the words just as the sound of metal legs scarping against the polished floor burst through the room along with the loud smack against the oak table from the impact of my father's hands. The table trembles under my palms. "Enough!" His growl slices through my anger and the feel of every eye in the room focused on us suffocates me, but my father's glare is what causes my breath to hitch in my throat. There he is, the Alpha of Dalerin.

"You will not fight me on this, when all of this is just to keep you safe." The lines on his face darken as he stares me down. "How utterly selfish of you to deny help and protection. You are our child," He gestures toward my mother, who is sitting silently at his side as usual. "My heir. If it takes fourteen guards following you around and protecting you, to keep you safe and alive, then that is how it will be." His eyes soften, flickering over my face before he blows out a rushed breath and settles back down in his chair. "There will be no further discussion on this matter, Kaira." With a lingering glance, he straightens out his suit jacket and returns to eating.

My gaze flings toward my mother, meeting her soft blue hues, full of pleading. To hell with this s**t. I push back against my chair, and lift myself, not sparing either of them a glance as I stride out of the dining room, Dax trailing close behind me.

___

My mind roars with thoughts, overwhelmingly frustrating as I pull the brush through my damp hair. I was informed by Dax that the guards arrived a few hours ago, and with all the frustration nestled inside the hollow of my chest, I refused to attend dinner with all fourteen of them, including my mother and father. It’s to formulate the plans and rotations, and to formally meet all of them. That is what my father told Dax, and instead of prancing down to the dining room, I made plans with Darian. I slip on my black hoodie and fling my hair brush across the room, watching it bounce on the mattress.

I realize my choices aren’t the wisest, but f**k it. I push open my window and glance down. The wind blows tendrils of my damp hair in the air, a few strands clinging to my neck. I push out a sigh and heave my leg over the windowsill, firmly grounding my foot against the roof below my window and climb out, dragging the window down halfway and turn. Swinging my arms out for balance, I slowly make my way to the edge, keeping my steps firm and steady, careful not to slip and tumble down. “f**k, it’s cold.” I mutter, the wind carrying my voice.

Reaching the edge, I bite into my bottom lip, lowering into a crouch and muscle memory takes hold of my body, as my legs dangle over the edge of the roof and I twist, gripping the ledge and slowly lower my body until I’m dangling from the edge and I let go, my stomach tumbling as I fall. “Shit.” I grit out when my feet meet the ground and pins and needles trail up my calves. I swat strands of my hair out of my face and push my hands into the pocket of my hoodie, swinging my gaze to the side and stride forward, careful to avoid the guards as I hastily make my way toward the garden. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and take a sharp right, stepping under the canopy of trees. Where is h-- "I must say I was surprised when I received your message," The familiar honeyed voice mumbles behind me and I twist around, a taunt grin tugging on my lips.

Darian. Tousled brown hair, glimmering honey eyes and a teasing smirk greet me. He drags a hand through his hair, raising a brow. "The last time we met here, you said it wasn't happening again." True. This wasn't supposed to happen, but before, I wasn't plagued with the frustration of knowing fourteen guards would be following me around. "I lied," I lift my shoulder in a shrug and tilt my head. "Are you complaining?" My fingers find the hem of my silky shorts and I press the material between my thumb and forefinger.

His eyes fall down my body, slowly and sensually, before he shakes his head. "Never." He breathes and that's all I need to stride forward and place my hands on his shoulders, pushing him backward and down on the bench. I press my knees into the cold concrete on either side of his thighs and lower myself into his lap. “f**k, you’re so hot.” He breathes out, his eyelids drooping as he gazes up at me, his hands trailing over my back, before he lifts the material of my hoodie and slides his hands underneath. I brush my lips over his, running the tip of my tongue over the seam of his bottom lip. "No talking." I mumble, weaving my fingers through the short strands at the back of his neck and tilt his head, biting into his bottom lip. A low grumble escapes his throat.

My tongue slides into his mouth, rolling over his and tingles flutter over the insides of my thighs. His fingers rove down my spine, sending shivers through me. I push my hips down, and pull him closer, needing more, wanting mor-- "Who would've thought the innocent princess of Dalerin could be so demanding?" The voice that slices through the mere silence under the canopy has me pulling away from Darian abruptly, my spine rigid as I blink. That voice. Deep, cold, demanding, and so devastatingly attractive that my breath hitches in my throat, Darian long forgotten as I slowly pivot my head to the side, my heart thundering in my chest.

Everything halts when my eyes connect with his. Green. Green. Green. My fingers flex around Darian's shoulders, my body momentarily frozen in place. Painstakingly beautiful. He looks like a corrupt angel, almost preternaturally handsome but with a louche quality that hints at unspoken depravity. The darkness that surrounds him captivates every inch of my body-- takes hold and squeezes. Raven strands rain down his forehead, slightly over his eyes, his green, green, green eyes.

His beauty is like the edge of a sharp knife.

In the darkness, I can only see that. With trembling fingers, I lift myself up from Darian's lap and take a small step back. Guard. He's one of my guards. "Who would've thought that one of my guards would be so bold as to say something like that to me?" And, bold he is. His six-foot-something body is leaned against the wooden arch, his hands shoved into his black trousers as his invading gaze falls over my face, observing and intruding. He slants his head to the side, strands of his raven hair tumbling to the side. "And, I suppose being your guard, entails telling your father about this?" f**k, his voice. My fingers flex into fists, my teeth clenching as I slightly narrow my eyes.

"Only if you include the fact that you were staring for a hefty amount of time." I grit out the words, aware of Darian's gawking as I lower my hand down to the hem of my silky shorts and press the material between my fingers. The guards' eyes fling down to the movement before sliding back up to my face. "I'm sure he'll be too mortified by your choice of clothes and actions to dwell on my staring." His gaze turns hard, unblinking as he stares at me, and I refrain from squirming. Who the f**k does he think he is? He pushes off the wooden arch and stands to his full height, and I have to crane my neck backwards to keep his gaze-- his unrelenting, suffocating gaze.

My breath halts in my throat, burning as I keep my eyes focused on the piercing green of his. His gaze flicks between mine, before he takes a swift step forward, my entire body tensing with the force of intimidation that flows from every inch of his large build. Why can't I look away? A muscle in his jaw flexes. "He's waiting."