Kyon's defiant smirk was a perfectly crafted insult. He lowered his bow, the second arrow still nocked, a silent promise of what would happen if his brother dared to cross the line again. Cassian's face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. His hand, still at his nose, was now clenched into a fist, blood staining his knuckles. He wanted to lunge at Kyon, but he was a king's son, and a public brawl in the training yard was a line even he wouldn't cross.
"A simple misunderstanding, brother," Kyon said, his voice a mocking purr as he strode forward, the scent of white tea and amber flaring around him like a warning. He came to a stop just a few feet from Arion, his body a shield between the warrior and the furious alpha. "I believe I was quite clear. Arion is mine. You may have the King's decree, but you do not have my permission."
Cassian's lip curled into a sneer. "And what will you do, little brother? You can't be in two places at once. He is now my bodyguard, and a bodyguard must be by his master's side at all times."
Kyon's eyes, cold and calculating, never left Cassian's. "I've always been good at sharing, haven't I? A soldier serves his King, and Arion will serve you. But a possession returns to its master at the end of the day. You may borrow him for the battlefield, but he will come home to me. And if you dare to touch what is mine again, I will not miss next time."
The arrogance in his voice was breathtaking. He had just publicly declared Arion as his possession, a mere object to be shared and then reclaimed. Arion, caught between the two warring princes, felt a cold dread settle in his bones. He was no longer a man; he was a trophy, and the battle over him had just been brought into the open.
Cassian, his rage simmering just below the surface, had no choice but to back down. He was humiliated, outmaneuvered, and he knew it. With a final, venomous glare, he turned and stormed away, his footsteps heavy with a promise of retribution. Kyon watched him go, his triumphant smirk still in place. He then turned to Arion, his gaze softening, the cold defiance in his eyes replaced by a possessive, unsettling warmth.
"Come," Kyon said, his hand reaching for Arion's arm. "You're bleeding. Let's get you cleaned up. I'm afraid my brother's aggression knows no bounds."