A Throne Forged by Shadows - Aaric Graycastle

Chapter 16

Roark grunts, stumbling backward—but laughs.

The sound is mocking, taunting as he wipes blood from his lip.

"You didn't step in last week," he breathes, just low enough for Aaric to hear. "Didn't stop me. Guess you liked watching her crawl, huh?"

My stomach twists.

Whatever he said—whatever filth he just fed Aaric—I don't need to hear it to know it's about me.

And I hate that I feel small.

I hate that he has this power.

Because Aaric stops.

For half a second.

Then his next attack is twice as fast.

Roark barely gets his arms up before Aaric's fist smashes into his face.

A sharp crack. Blood sprays across the mat.

Roark sways—but he's still smiling.

And he just doesn't know when to stop.

He exhales, shoulders shaking in laughter, blood dripping from his mouth as he mutters the last thing he'll say in this fight.

"Melgren's got a habit of staying on her knees. Think she'll do the same for you, Graycastle?"

I hear my name.

And I see it.

The moment Aaric breaks.

Not his control. Not his focus.

But whatever restraint he had left.

His entire stance changes.

No hesitation. No flicker of doubt.

Just lethal, merciless intent.

Roark barely lifts his arms before Aaric's boot slams into the side of his knee, forcing him down.

A heartbeat later—a devastating strike to the ribs.

Crunch.

Roark's breath cuts off.

He chokes.

Aaric doesn't stop.

He drives his knee into Roark's stomach, forcing him flat onto the mat.

Roark gasps, wheezing, clawing at the mat to try to get up.

But he can't.

Because he can't breathe.

And Aaric knows it.

The rest of the gym is silent.

The professor doesn't step in.

Because Aaric was never out of control.

He doesn't glance at Roark. Doesn't check if he can get up.

He just adjusts his uniform.

And walks off the mat like nothing happened.

Roark stays down.

But before Aaric leaves, he kneels down just enough to pluck up Roark's discarded dagger.

Tucks it into his belt.

The prize for victory.

My breath's still shallow.

Everyone else looks away. I can't.

Because that dagger is more than a trophy.

It's a warning.