Page 40 of Brutal Birthright

Her sleek black head of hair would be instantly recognisable as he made out individual strands against her fair skin.

The worst was the moment he saw her face clearly for the first time. He nearly passed out after he woke up gasping and keening. Feeling like his chest had caved in. Unable to tell if what horror he’d just witnessed—fuck, inflicted at his own hand—had been real or all in his mind.

Sleep became a newfound enemy after that night.

Rowan couldn’t remember the last time he’d found peace amongst the dark hours. The visions that plagued him became all-consuming. Apocalyptic landscapes and death… so much fucking death…

Being forced to execute his own fucking sister.

Never knowing why.

He sat on the edge of his bed, head bowed and rubbing his temples. Counting the threads of the richly patterned carpet adorning the floor of his rooms between his feet.

Outside, a thick shroud of fog billowed in the dim light of lanterns in the courtyard. Rowan would shrug it off, run the perimeter, head to the lake. Just like always. By the time he’d finished that familiar course of events, he might just be feeling sane enough to deal with things like tracking down those responsible for the murders they had yet to find answers to.

No classes today.

At least that was one reprieve.

Silence enveloped the academy, and it was a balm to his aching head. A deep-seated pounding against the inside of his skull that no amount of magical healing could resolve. But throwing himself into the lake usually helped to wash away the sweat and lingering torture of his nightmares.

He rose and tugged on some pants before dragging a shirt over his head. Both black like his twisted, battle-weary soul.

She hadn’t appeared at the lake again after that morning.

And he didn’t know whether he was relieved about it or not. Some kind of sensation that he didn’t want to dare acknowledge lurked on the edges of his consciousness. A screwed-up kind of obsession with the girl that he couldn’t shake.

No matter how often he fucked his fist.

Which had become far too frequent. Thinking of her perfect tits and pouty little mouth and soft swell of her thighs each time he stroked his cock and jerked out his release. Cum and pent-up frustration shooting everywhere.

Since the morning at the lake. Then, the solstice. He’d been doubly fucked.

Nearly seeing her cunt that night at the ball had been too risky. The perfect glimpse of forbidden temptation to drive him insane. But it was his own godsdamned fault. He’d stepped so far over the line that night that the consequences had him by the balls. Trapped in a waking torment where he never slept, saw her every day, and then when he wasn’t around her, there was little he seemed able to do to stop thinking about her.

What she was doing.

Or more to the point, who she was doing it with.

Fuck. He’d wanted to rip the arm off the kid with the rings and the moody stare for daring to have his arm around her at the tavern. The girl had no idea how stunning she was, of that he was certain. She didn’t seem to notice the trail of panting fucking assholes lined up behind her wherever she went.

So, when he’d run through the thick bank of fog lying eerie and heavy amongst the forest, all he saw was her dark eyes staring up at him from between his legs as she knelt on the floor.

As he plunged into the lake, the sound of her breath hitching and the image of her teeth digging into that puffy bottom lip teased him no matter how deep he sunk below the surface.

And when he arrived at the training arena, he’d already imagined her perfect fucking tits and hard nipples beneath his hands. How he wanted to suck down on them until she moaned and begged to be fucked into tomorrow.

Was it the most messed up thing to walk in half-hard and thinking about all the ways he wanted to have his student bent over? Probably. But even worse, was walking in and realising she was already there.

Like his every sordid fantasy had appeared, he might as well have cast an enchantment and made her manifest in the flesh. Dressed in her training leathers that hugged her thighs and ass like a second skin, with a cropped top that exposed a sliver of flesh at her waist and the swell of her breasts. Her long hair was pulled up high today, revealing those fine tips of her pointed ears.

His fists clenched at his sides. What the fuck was she doing here so early?

“I’ll leave then, if my presence is so offensive at this time of the morning.” Her wild tongue was out and snapping her retort at him before his brain had caught up with his body. She had a pile of weaponry laid out at her feet, and she huffed out an exasperated breath. Bending over to collect them, he could hear her eyes rolling.

Shit. Did he say that out loud?

“No. Stay. You’re here for a reason.” Trying not to grind his teeth into dust, or stare at her ass. He ran a hand over the back of his neck. As she straightened up and fixed him with a glare, he gestured for her to pick a weapon. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

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