Page 26 of Brutal Birthright

“Strike,” Finnic called out.

Brynne’s familiar squeal rang out from somewhere over to her left.

“Better believe I’m coming for you now, scary girl.” Etienne shook his head. Steel flashed in his eyes as he righted himself and pointed at the ground between them in invitation with his sword.

“Will that be coming for me with your cock in your hand while you’re begging on your knees?” She ran her tongue over her teeth. Nervous anticipation hummed through her bloodstream as she weighed up whether to strike quickly or calculate her next move.

But Etienne made the decision this time, lunging forward and taking over the space between them with his bulk. She barely had time to swing her weapon to connect with his before he rained down blow after blow. Ri blocked and deflected to the best of her ability, all the while shifting backwards.

“Run all you like…” He grunted as metal clashed between their heaving breaths. “I’ve got you cornered.” With a forceful swing, he knocked her blade down towards the dirt, and the tip dug heavily into the ground. Catching her completely off balance and causing her to tumble onto one knee, Ri turned too late. The shiny glint of steel kissed her throat, framed by Etienne’s triumphant gaze staring down at her from over her shoulder.

“Strike.” The call came from the edge of the circle.

Goddess-shitting-dammit.

She cursed beneath her breath.

“What was that, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you begging for mercy?”

“Just wait til my blade is up against your balls; then you might wish you had a different opponent, darling.” She righted herself, but the sting of losing that round still hummed in her ears.

And she could still feel the deafening weight of Rowan’s stare. Silently casting his assessment on her every single fucking move. It enraged her. Infuriated her. Violence ran hot and unrestrained through her blood at the knowledge he was still so intent on pointing out her failings.

It was probably his idea to pit her against Etienne like this in front of everyone.

No doubt he’d planned it all.

A roar of defiance built in her chest, and before she knew what she was doing, Ri leapt forward with her sword in two hands—hacking and slicing her way towards the vampire, who blocked and evaded each wild motion.

There was no finesse to this round, just raw fury and ambition bursting and bubbling like lava in her veins.

But she didn’t see it.

In her blind haste to win… to prove him wrong… she only realised the elbow connecting with her jaw was there in the split second before the blow landed. Far too late to evade it. Instead, all her body weight was focused on swinging the length of heavy metal in her hands towards Etienne’s chest.

The vampire sent her flying. Sprawled in the dirt on hands and knees. Her jaw was on fire, pain radiating from where he’d connected with a direct hit. Her sword clattered to the ground near the edge of their gathered classmates. To add to the pulsing agony in the side of her face, the pointed tip of the vampire’s weapon nudged her chin up to look at him from where she knelt on the floor bathed in indignation.

Strike. Finnic’s call sounded muffled and distant, like she was underwater.

She’d fucking lost.

Lost.

Now, points that should have been hers wouldn’t go into her ledger. Instead, they’d be accrued against Etienne’s name, putting him further up the rankings. All because she’d allowed that asshole to get into her head.

“Nice try, scary girl.” He tutted. Far too smug and handsome for his own good. “What should my prize be for winning?” Outstretching a hand, he clasped her forearm and tugged her to standing.

“Aren’t points enough?” She gritted out. A tang of copper coated her tongue, and as she swiped an arm across her mouth, there was a sheen of blood when she pulled away.

He surveyed her through a narrowed gaze and then dipped his head close to her ear with a low whisper. “Maybe my prize should be knowing you won’t be wearing anything under your dress tomorrow night at the ball, hmm?”

And being every inch the infuriating vampire, he drew back and shot her a hint of wicked fang, then swaggered over towards where Atticus stood alongside Brynne and Saskia.

Ri bit her tongue and hurriedly wiped more blood off her lip with the back of her hand. A thousand snarky retorts hung on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to lash him with stinging barbs in return for his audacity, but instead, swallowed it all down like shards of glass. The prick had won this time, fair and square. She wouldn’t fucking let it happen again.

While the next pairing was being called by Finnic—Atticus up against Glade—she quickly bent to swipe up her dropped sword. As she reached for it, a heavy boot landed on the handle.

Oh, fuck no.

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