Page 3 of Brutal Birthright

In his experience, most couldn’t tell their own asshole from the tip of a sword.

Niall rushed at that moment, trying to catch him off guard, but Rowan ducked under the swing of his elbow. Using the momentum to shove Niall straight past him, the satisfying thud and groan as his brother hit the dirt of the training arena was music to his ears.

“How long will I be required for?” Rowan towered over him, watching through narrowed eyes as Niall hopped back up to his feet.

“Most likely the full academic year. Once word gets out that the previous instructor was found mutilated in the forest… No doubt Ruby is going to have her work cut out for her to ensure the rest of the staff don’t quit before the academy has even opened its doors, no?”

Rowan swung out to block the incoming lunge from his brother. Jabbing three times quickly up into his unprotected ribs, then elbowing him to the nose for good measure. Because fuck him.

“You asshole. That was a cheap shot.” Bright red coated Niall’s forearm as he wiped at the blood now gushing from his nose.

Rowan tossed the short blade from his right to his left hand, then back again. An act so simple and effortlessly connected to his magic he could feel every molecule in the weapon at his command. No matter what implement he wielded, it was an extension of his very soul, and that made Rowan deadly.

Who knew why the Goddesses had chosen to bestow him with this gift from Source, but he’d known how to properly harness the power of a blade before he could walk.

He flexed his neck from side to side. Shit, it felt good to see his baby brother bleed. At least if Niall was going to come here and beg, he could do it bathed in crimson.

“Ruby is going to kick your ass for that the next time you train together.”

As if that would ever happen.

But the little queen was feisty, that much he’d learned in the time he’d known her. Whenever they’d had an opportunity to exchange blows here in the training arena, she proved more than capable of holding her own. His brother’s mate knew weapons—and was able to use her fae magic to create some of the finest he’d ever had the pleasure of using or owning—he’d give her that.

Her sister knew how to wield weapons, too.

While Ruby might be the epitome of level-headed, pragmatic, and grounded sensibility, her sister was the opposite in every way. Wild. Uninhibited. Rash.

With fiery eyes and a sharp tongue that would get her into trouble.

And a mouth that…

Fuck. Rowan growled to himself. Circling his brother with one eye warily observing each motion. He’d shoved all thoughts of the dark-haired fae out of his mind in recent months. He didn’t give a shit where she was or what she was doing with her life these days.

He hadn’t seen her since that day at Ruby’s coronation.

Which suited him just fine.

The smartass thought she could swan in with some bullshit elevated status on the grounds of her sister being the queen. Given favours and a prime placement within Ruby’s royal protection detail at the palace… not to mention the way she’d directly disobeyed his orders that day.

Putting countless lives at risk.

Heat surged through his bloodstream.

That little girl knew nothing, and he’d been sure to put her in her place at the coronation. She could run off and cry to her sister for all he cared.

For fuck’s sake. Now that he was going to have to stay here after all, maybe he needed to take care of this tension rolling around inside him. Rowan didn’t have time for distractions. Especially not ones that were centuries too fucking young.

If he needed to blow off some steam, he knew exactly where to go… and how much it cost.

Simple.

Efficient.

Complication-free.

Only there was a massive godsdamned complication. He hadn’t been inside any pussy, let alone a mouth, or an ass, in six fucking months. Since she’d wormed her way into his dreams. Plaguing him at night between the regular nightmares like a torturous siren’s call.

He needed to get a fucking grip.

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