Page 9 of Brutal Birthright

Rowan had the audacity to steal her sanity and ruffle her composure. Trapping her in a forcefield of obscenely muscular, tattooed, deadly strength.

Shit. As if she’d voiced every single one of her thoughts out loud, his head snapped up and turned her way. A lethal look about him as his wolfish stare landed on her immediately. Even from this distance, the ring of silver encircling his irises gave him a predatory energy. Set against brilliant blue orbs that haunted her dreams.

Only this wasn’t the type of blush-inducing interaction she’d grown accustomed to while lying awake and alone in her bed at night.

No. The giant man covered in ink standing before her wasn’t a charming knight set to sweep her off her feet. This was a venomous snake. Beautiful. Deadly. Coiled and braced to strike.

A born killer.

Who glared back at her with flared nostrils and barely leashed rage.

But as fast as he’d singled her out amongst the crowd of students, he surveyed the rest of the arena. Cool indifference masked any reaction he’d initially shown at seeing her here. Perhaps he’d been just as unaware of her enrolment in the academy as she’d been of his presence?

He folded his arms across his impossibly broad chest, then spoke for the first time. And fuck if the sound of his deep rumbling voice didn’t set her heart fluttering in the back of her throat.

Ri had imagined that voice in her ear giving all sorts of commands. The kind that instantly made her clit throb and pussy clench.

Fuck. She wasn’t even paying attention to his instructions. Only the movements of his mouth. The clench of his scruffy jaw. How his throat worked. She shook her head, dragging her attention and sanity out of the clouds and back to ground level.

“No magic. No shifting. No enchantments or otherwise enhanced weaponry.” Rowan’s deep rasp hung in the air as he listed off orders while the class around her hung on his every word. “I don’t give a fuck about your powers. When you’re in this arena, unless otherwise specified, you’re training for the moment you do not have access to your gifts.”

Even the males seemed transfixed by him. Not that Ri was surprised. They probably wanted to be fucked by him too.

“This year, a large part of what you will learn is training that will prepare you for the worst-case scenario. Which will hopefully mean that even if you never need these skills, you’ll at least have a fighting chance of surviving in battle.”

The next moment, she realised he must have stopped speaking because other voices began to pipe up. Most sounded high-pitched and as disconcerted as she felt. The swarm of moths in her stomach fought each other for wing space. Closer and closer, the voices came until she heard Brynne pipe up and introduce herself to the rest of the group.

Crap.

All too soon, it was her turn. Eager-looking eyes from the rest of the class swung her way, putting her right at the centre of attention.

Ri cleared her throat. Looking Rowan square in the eye, she jutted out her jaw. “Oriana. Dark Fae. My speciality weapons are short blades and a hunting bow.”

And as quick as the words were out of her mouth, the next person to her left was speaking. The asshole didn’t show so much as a twitch of recognition or acknowledgement. She didn't want—or expect—preferential treatment here in any shape or form. But he was friends with Ruby. His own brother was her sister’s fated mate. Their paths were intertwined, whether they liked it or not. And he’d just blankly moved to the next person without so much as a grunt or nod.

Rage started to simmer throughout her insides.

She’d already endured one campaign of humiliation from Rowan of Nocturne.

Fuck him if he thought he could treat her like that for the duration of this year.

But as she tossed around all the ways she hated his ridiculously perfect face and body and way of commanding the room, her eyes couldn’t help drifting to the hard lines of his frame.

Rowan was just enormous—a solid wall of a man. Witches in the Nocturne family all seemed blessed with unbelievably good looks, but he was different from his siblings in so many ways.

Not to mention the tattoos covering nearly every inch of visible skin, rising from his fingers along his arms and disappearing beneath his rolled shirt sleeves.

Goddesses save her. Why was she such a harlot for veined bulging forearms? The way those muscles popped and glistened with a light sheen of sweat—

“Oriana.”

His gravelly voice made her jump.

Shit.

Darting her tongue out to wet her bottom lip, she realised the entire class stared at her expectantly. Again. Rowan’s piercing gaze locked onto hers, but his expression remained cool and distant. Shuttered away behind a fortress.

“Care to share with the class an example of a weakness you might take advantage of in an opponent? Or are you uninterested in listening to instructions during your time in this academy?”

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