Chapter 94: Not Your Kind Of Princess
I picked up the rifle. The weight that had once felt overwhelming now seemed manageable.
My fingers tightened against the walnut stock before I lifted my arms, an action that seemed slower to me as I tried to balance myself, replaying all the positions Elliot had shown me.
Satisfied with how comfortable I was, I pinned my focus on the circle targets spread out across the open fields.
I swallowed thickly, taking my time for over a minute, releasing soft breaths from my mouth before I pulled the trigger.
I didn’t stop after the first shot; I kept firing again and again. Only when I needed to cycle the bolt did I pause and continue.
The action repeated for over an hour, and the rhythm changed. There were no more missed shots, and my bullets didn’t hit the trees anymore, and scare off the possible squirrels hanging out there for nut time.
But I wasn’t satisfied. I might be hitting the target now, but merely striking the paper wasn’t enough. I wanted perfection, and I was nowhere near the mark I was aiming for.
"I’m genuinely impressed. You’re good at this."
My actions discontinued, and I whipped my head toward Gabriel, coming toward me. He took off the aviators, amusement dancing in his light brown eyes as they met mine.
"I expected nothing more from Mrs. Salvero, herself." His words flowed smoothly, and the urge to roll my eyes itched through me.
"Not only gorgeous but a wonderful marksman. That bonus is a daydream. I’d kill anyone who would dare to wake me up from—"
"Anastasia..." I cut him off. "Call me that and not Mrs. Salvero."
"Anastasia," he murmured my name as though savoring it. "The name suits your beauty. I’d very much love to say it from now on."
Oh, please...
I couldn’t help it anymore as I rolled my eyes. I eased up, allowing my arms to relax; they had gotten stiff over time.
The strong wind came through and flapped our clothes.
I brushed a dark strand away from my face. Even though my hair was tied in a ponytail, a few loose strands had escaped.
Gabriel was extremely attentive as I brushed my hair behind my ears. Just like the dinner when he studied my every body movement, and only when he engaged with the boys did he avert his hawk eyes away.
I’m having the urge to pierce them with my blade. I don’t like the way they detailed me, maybe because I couldn’t get a read on him.
"The afternoon couldn’t be more pleasant," he said, passing a swift look around. "Enjoying the view and practicing. I’m envious."
"What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at brunch or something?"
"Brunch?"
"You strike me as the tea and chill type."
He grinned, coming close. "So you have had thoughts about me. I’m honored."
"It was a fleeting first impression."
"Still honored anyway." He sneered. "Your rigorous practice tells me you will be joining us for the hunt tomorrow."
"Got a problem with that?
"Certainly not. My mother only engages because of my father. I just thought it wouldn’t be the case for you."
"And why is that?"
"Because you don’t strike me as the ’do as you’re told type’."
A ghostly smirk crossed my lips.
I could skip this hunt, but I don’t wanna spend another day in my room in tears, watching TV to rid myself of the sinking feeling, or staring blankly at the wall. I needed something to kickstart my body.
This was surprisingly helpful. I welcomed the ache in my arms from shooting, the noise, and the adrenaline.
The birds that flew off the trees and the wind caressing my skin. If I could experience this in the hunt, then I’ll take my chances.
"Maybe I’m just the kind of girl who enjoys such things."
"I doubt that."
I frowned at his words.
"You’re a princess, and they stay in their castles."
"This princess isn’t Rapunzel," I gritted out.
"Mulan then?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"What?" He shrugged, picking up a rifle. "They interest me. That female energy that comes with anger and possibly heartbroken hearts."
I scoffed, looking anywhere but at him, wishing he could leave.
"So, who was your teacher? I imagined a long line of them to cater to the princess’s lessons."
"Elliot."
"Elliot?" He lifted his arms, the rifle settling against his shoulder.
I studied his lean build. His ginger hair was tousled by the wind.
"It couldn’t be him. That’s a good form you have there, and even though it still needs more work, I can see how relaxed you are."
"Relaxed?"
"Zade."
A foul feeling twisted all over me at the mention of his name.
Gabriel dropped the rifle, smirking. "He always carried an effortless grace whenever he wielded a weapon capable of inducing death in a thousand different ways."
I let out a hoarse breath, but then annoyance crawled through me. The idea of being related in any way to that serpent made me revolted.
"What kind of form would you suggest then?" I asked.
He grinned. "I have many forms."
"Then show me," I said sternly.
Gabriel’s interest was piqued, but then he said. "I wouldn’t want to put your teacher to shame. It’s not my place."
"I asked you." I picked up the rifle and worked the bolt. "So are you gonna put on your less fancy pants and show me what I need?"
"Feisty..." He remarked. "If the princess says so, then who am I to object? I can show you how to get a quick shot. The main point is to never get comfortable."
"I can work with that. Beats acting as if everything is insignificant."
"I sense something personal there."
I lifted my arms and positioned the rifle. "What else?"
Gabriel came behind me, his hand gripped my waist. He leaned forward, the hard surface of his body pushing into mine.
"What do you think you are doing?"
My grip tightened against the rifle, and I tried to move away, but his grip turned to steel, keeping me in place.
"You ask me to show you. I’m doing that."
"There’s something called personal space. I’m sure whatever you wanna show me can survive a few extra inches."
"This is more effective. I guess Zade showed you just like this. Body contacts and all."
My elbow connected with his jaw. He hissed and stepped back, rubbing the injured spot.
"Ow..."
I smirked. "That’s your fault for standing too close."
Gabriel ticked his tongue. "I can see what Zade sees in you. He has quite the taste, which has always been... spunky."
A rapid string of shots shattered through the air, each round striking the targets with terrifying precision.
My eyes moved at speed toward the source, and I drew in a sharp breath when I saw Zade. With each shot, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tightened beneath his shirt. Despite the rifle’s recoil, his movement remained smooth and swift.
I veered my eyes back to the open field, and a chill ran down my spine when I saw the targets being taken down one by one until there was barely any left.
Zade stopped, holding the rifle with one hand as he passed a lethal look in our direction.
I ignored the feeling that swamped me at the sight of the plaster on his neck; a faint stain of blood smeared the white bandage.
"Zade!" Gabriel pitched. "I missed you at dinner."
"Unfortunately, I couldn’t attend. Several idiots found a way to monopolize. You know how it is."
"One of the main reasons I steer clear of that side of the business. I wonder how you do it."
"Smoking helps," Zade’s eyes descended on me. "Sometimes a hazy mind is the clearest you will ever need."
My chest heaved, the sight of him making my once manageable mood sour.
"You crawled out of bed so early, darling. I didn’t realize you were gone."
I blinked. The heck? Where was that coming from?
"You should have told me you were going out for practice."
"I didn’t realize I needed your permission." I bite back, feeling my anger rise to the surface.
How dare he throw a fucking lie like that?
Gabriel cleared his throat. "I was just showing her some forms. Upon her request, of course. I wouldn’t dare do otherwise."
Zade didn’t take his eyes off me, and it was beginning to throw me off. "I’m sure she must have mentioned that she already has a teacher."
"Elliot," I said.
"And I told her it couldn’t have been him, after all, there is only one person who I know who shoots like a stroll in the afternoon." Gabriel chuckled.
Finally, Zade’s eyes moved to Gabriel. I didn’t realize how fake his smile could be until now, almost as if he was teetering through the edge.
"You know me too well," he replied with unsettling calmness. "But sometimes my aim slips and the bullet finds a far more willing target."
