Page 67 of Brutal Birthright

Well, if she had any sense, she’d have recognised by now that he wasn’t a good man.

Finnic strolled over, his hands in his pockets and a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She did well today. That puts her highest on the points ranking out of the entire class.”

Rowan grunted. His narrowed stare still fixated on the spot where she was surrounded by other students congratulating her. Joking with her. Gently taunting the vampire, who looked just as pleased as anyone to see her succeed.

Fucking suck up.

The fae carried on, ignoring his singular grunted replies. “Lukah is still working through the manuscripts. He’s found some leads to start chasing that seem promising for the symbols and their origins.”

This time, the noise he made came out more like a snarl.

As he watched on, the witch with the dark eyes and the rings slung an arm around Oriana’s shoulder.

Her friend, the sprite, talked animatedly at her with sparkling eyes.

The group looked like they were heading out of the training arena together. No doubt, back to the student accommodation wing.

In his periphery, Finnic wouldn’t stop fucking talking.

“Put together a briefing. We’ll assemble the rest of the guards tomorrow.” Rowan snapped.

That cut him off at least. With a wry smile, Finnic shook his head. “You got it, blade-slinger.” As he headed off towards the armoury, he whistled to himself like a godsdamned ray of sunshine.

Most of the class had filed out, leaving only a handful of students lingering in the stone archway, including the girl. Her eyes darted over to him again.

At least he didn’t have to hunt her down for this.

“Oriana.” He tasted ash and rage on his tongue.

Her shoulders stiffened. But she halted and spoke to her friends for a moment. They carried on without her while she stood in the wide archway, framed by the lush greenery of the academy gardens just outside. Sunlight dappled in where the heavy afternoon sun filtered through the trees.

“What?” She crossed her arms. Any trace of her excitement from the high of her win had faded upon hearing the tone in his voice.

“Ten rounds of the assault course. Now.”

If there’d been a blade in her hand, he was certain she would have hurled it at his skull.

“No.”

“No?” Rowan hissed. Advancing on her, with arms folded and teeth gritted.

Her eyes bounced around the empty arena before settling on the place where Finnic worked, finishing up whatever fussing over the armoury he felt compelled to do today.

“Fuck you. I’m not doing it.” Her throaty whisper remained low enough for only the two of them to hear. “Kindly take your assault course and shove it, brute.”

They were toe to toe now. Standing just inside the confines of the training arena, but in full view of anyone who might care to walk by at that moment. Not to mention Finnic whistling some inane tune to himself as he fondled his precious collection of swords.

“You will run the course, or so help me...”

“So help you, what?” She cocked her head to one side. “Try and make me. See how far that gets you.”

“I’m in no mood for your bullshit.”

“And here’s a word of advice… I’m in no mood for yours either.” This time, her small golden daggers appeared in her fists, manifested by her fae magic, and she shoved one against his chest. “I’ve done nothing to deserve punishment or additional training. I won my battle today fair and square, and whatever your fucking problem is, you can go and take it out on someone else.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched so tight he thought his teeth might grind to dust.

“I’m warning you, little faerie.” He was barely holding back from doing something he really shouldn’t. The leash frayed and was about to snap any second.

---