Page 34 of Brutal Birthright

She made a soft noise in the back of her throat. Sweet and delicate and full of wanting.

Out of the darkness, a burst of laughter—a clatter of a door being thrown open—shattered whatever spell had kept him transfixed. The bubble they’d been in burst, and he took a hasty step back.

What the fuck?

His gaze snapped up to meet hers. The consequences of whatever that had been between them doused over him like taking a plunge into the depths of an icy lake. This was not good.

Not good. Not good.

He jerked his hands out of his pockets, not missing the way her stare landed on the evidence of his rock-hard erection in his trousers, and shoved his fingers through his hair.

Another step back. A mile. An ocean. He needed to put as much distance between them as possible—right this second.

“You need to focus on why you came to this academy. Not run around showing your cunt like a whore.” The words spat out, cold and crude. Because that’s all he was. An unmitigated asshole, and she needed to be under no uncertainty of her hatred for him.

But as he turned to leave, she just had to have the last fucking word. Her raspy voice called out after him, cutting through the night.

“I might be a whore, but you’re the one who was watching.”

Chapter 11

Two weeks of punishing trainings.

Two weeks since the night of the solstice ball.

Each day Ri stepped into the arena became a battle to keep her composure.

She needed not have worried about what might or might not have happened after her little altercation with Rowan on the terrace that night. Because the man had turned into a frozen tundra. Devoid of emotion or personality or any fucking shred of decency.

Even the other students, who previously had swooned after him as though the sun shone out of his firm ass, began to grumble. Their drills and combat practice tripled in intensity, leaving them all in various states of ruin by the end of each class.

Then, true to form, Rowan would invariably command that she stayed behind and complete the assault course on her own. Always for reasons that were vague and unspecified, but it never ceased to give Vanya and her cronies a source of glee as they waved her off on her solo efforts.

Leaving her returning to her rooms late at night, dripping in sweat and the sharp sting of humiliation.

Brynne had begun to worry. Even suggested she should go and talk to Ruby about whatever was going on. But the thought of involving her sister made her palms sweat. There was far too much residual confusion and sexual tension left rolling around her body after the night of the solstice that she couldn’t even wrap her head around how she might raise the issue with Ruby.

Plus, there was every chance her sister would see straight through any half-truth or lie she might attempt to concoct.

Then, there was the very possible risk she’d have to submit to an interrogation about why she hadn’t hooked up with anyone the night of the ball. What was she supposed to say? ‘Oh, no, I ignored all the suitable options in favour of nearly showing my pussy to my teacher, who is the better part of three hundred years older than me.’

Wisdom and good decisions were clearly not her friends in this particular season of life.

“Hey, scary girl.” Etienne appeared beside her as if she conjured the smug vampire just by remembering how she’d abandoned him on the dancefloor that night of the solstice. Leaning up against the stone wall with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. They were neck and neck on the leaderboard for points, a fact she was both pleased about and also highly irritated by.

She wanted to kick his smug vampiric ass on her way to reaching the Astrals. Not just barely scrape by him on almost equal points.

“What do you want, bloodsucker?” She bent down to collect the array of swords and knives she’d been running drills with over here on her own. Ready to scuttle back and return them to the armoury before Finnic had kittens about the state of his precious stash of armaments.

That man was unreasonably besotted with his weapons.

“Guess we’re paired up again. Some new tactical manoeuvres we are going to run through.” He nodded towards where Finnic was instructing different members of the class to pair off. From the looks of the groupings, they’d been assigned based on points ranking and positioning on the leaderboard.

“Fine. But I promise you’ll lose… again.” She flashed him a smile and batted her eyelashes sweetly. There was no denying the greedy bitch inside her chest loved any opportunity to win against him. And their rounds together over the past couple of weeks had been evenly matched. If she remembered correctly, they were tied for successes and points right now.

Ri hurried over to shelve the weapons, casting a quick glance to make sure Finnic was still occupied, then made her way over to stand beside Etienne.

It would appear that this new training session was non-weaponry, focused solely on physical conquest and overpowering your opponent. Ri pursed her lips and shot Etienne a look out of the corner of her eye. There were a lot of things she could do to beat the vampire when it came to strategy, hand-to-hand combat, and use of different weapons… but wrestling him into submission?

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