Perilous Flames [clifford a.u]

chapter forty - the forewarning

CHAPTER FORTY - THE FOREWARNING

"I'm coming with you," I blurted out, the words coming out automatically before I could even be given a moment to consider what I wanted to day. My one chance to drive a blade through Scarlet's heart--delivered in front of me on a silver platter. But on a platter that's not quite yet in reach.

Michael's lips pulled into a grimace like he knew I was going to say exactly that, but he didn't speak up against or for me. His gaze only flitted away, towards his boots and stood there in finality. It was clear that he wasn't going to support me with this argument.

It was Ashton, who's face immediately transformed to a frustrated glare, that shook his head. "No, not happening. Absolutely not."

I knew his answer the minute the words flooded from my mouth. And still, the anger was boiling under my skin, clashing with the surge of electricity that was sparking in my veins. "And why the hell not?"

"Because you need to heal. Because you aren't strong enough yet. Because you will get yourself killed this time." Ashton's voice nearly came out in a roar that had everyone shrinking away, including me. And once he realized the amount of tension and anger he portrayed in his voice, he let out an exasperated breath and said with eyes closed, "Everyone out. Now. The plan will proceed, so go get prepared." 

Ashton didn't need to say it twice to his fellow guards. They were scattering out as if the room became suffocating. Calum followed suit, with only a sympathetic glance my way while Michael stood still near me. His eyes were now trained on my face, giving its message clearly: Don't push him, Aiden. Please.

My gaze flitted as soon as I saw it. I wasn't going to leave just yet. 

And that message was clear to Michael as he realized that my feet were planted and my chin was up. He only shoved his hands in the front pocket of his jeans and proceeded out the door with unease. 

Once the door shut, I moved forward to Ashton's desk, close enough that I can see Ashton's knuckles growing white from the tight fist he was making. My anger was suddenly boiling with a stream of nerves. "I don't understand how suddenly you're treating me like I'm a piece of porcelain ready to be shattered apart," I said, my voice growing low. "Three weeks ago, you saw me training. You saw the kind of fighter I am. I can help."

A scoff came from Ashton's mouth as he opened his eyes to glare at me. "Sweetheart, I don't know if you've noticed but three weeks ago, you didn't have a bullet wound in your side. You won't be much of help if you can't even lift up a sword. You will only slow us down and be a liability instead." 

"Ashton, I need this. You don't understand. This is my choice--" 

"If you're talking about needing a slow, painful death for dear old Scarlet, then fine, sure. That will be delivered. Hell, I'll even have Calum film a video for you. But you will not be on this mission. As long as I am the one in charge, you are not going to be apart of this." 

"This isn't fair--" 

Ashton's hand came slamming on top of his desk, causing the wood to groan and creak in protest. "This isn't about fairness, Aiden. This is about keeping you alive. Vengeance will mean nothing if your death is the result. So, for the last time, I said no," he muttered and sat down on his chair as a finality. "Now, please, leave. I have things to do." 

My lips pulled into a line, and I saw my vision flash. The fury was at its boiling point now, but somehow I managed to spin away from Ashton's desk and stalk out of the room. I slammed the study's door after me, to let Ashton know of just how angry I was, and began down the corridor.