Page 24 of Brutal Birthright

Close enough for what her reckless side needed anyway.

Just as he drew level with their group, she leant forward and fixed Etienne with a stare through her thick eyelashes. His cocksure grin widened with the kind of outrageous confidence that only a vampire could possess while waiting for her agreement.

Ri made sure her next words carried loud enough for anyone—but especially him just as he walked past—to hear.

“Of course, Etienne. I’d love to go to the ball with you.”

Chapter 8

The rest of the week leading up to the solstice ball passed in a blur.

Training.

Classes.

Eat.

Study.

Sleep.

Repeat.

She’d managed to avoid any further run-ins with Rowan, with time in the training arena largely spent under the watchful eye of Finnic. The hulking witch lingered on her periphery, of course, but he seemed intent on giving Ri a wide berth, and she couldn’t help but feel relief every time his gaze slid over her and moved on to a different student.

Only to then burn hot and bright with a sting in her gut that he had passed over her.

She was a fucking mess.

Without a doubt, she wanted to focus on her pathway into the Astrals. Keeping her sights on the long road ahead to the upcoming assessments that would ensure she made it to those elite ranks. That was her goal and entire reasoning for enrolling in Astracadia as a student in the first place.

She could still see the look on Ruby’s face when she’d told her this was her decision, instead of accepting her own sister’s offer–practically gifting her a golden opportunity to become one of the academic staff.

Ri still couldn’t believe that Ruby considered her capable enough to shoulder the responsibility of teaching others.

No. It hadn’t been the right thing back then, and it wasn’t now, either.

This was the right move. Enrolling and training and pursuing her future as an elite warrior. Achieving a place in the Astrals was going to give her the surety of a future not forever tied to being in the favour of the queen of the fae. As much as she loved her sister, Ri couldn’t bear the thought of eternally being in Ruby’s debt like that.

But proving herself as capable and worthy of making it through to the elite of the elite? A goal like that spurred something inside her. It honed a determination to succeed on her own merits that drove her to push harder and further and faster each day. Collapsing into bed at night with the sweet taste of satisfaction on her tongue.

Still, she remained unable to resist sliding her fingers over her clit and climaxing with Rowan’s name silently hanging on her lips. Another routine she’d seemingly fallen into a trap of indulging.

Every night, without fail.

All around her, life in the academy had settled into somewhat of a routine for the students. Most of the time, there was talk of the ball, which was now only one more night away. Then, her evenings were invariably spent surrounded by the assortment of friends she had found herself in the middle of. Saskia, it would seem, had a true affinity for using her fae magic to create luxurious dresses and jewels dripping with opulence, and Brynne had been in her element designing everyone’s outfits. Both girls relished with far too much satisfaction the process of keeping Ri shut out and in the dark about her costume for the ball.

Brynne had insisted that it needed to be a surprise. Something about Ri being too stubborn to agree to wear a masquerade-appropriate ensemble unless it was thrust into her hands at the last minute. Which, unsurprisingly, was close to the truth.

When Ri had innocently asked if there would be places to hide her favourite knives beneath the dress, the withering look from the sprite had spoken volumes.

It was better to be given no choice in what she would be wearing and leave Saskia and Brynne to coordinate everything. Ri would most likely–ok, definitely– protest if she had prior warning.

It wasn’t as if she loathed dressing up or looking nice for an occasion. But rarely had she seen much use in attending an evening that required flouncing around in tulle, silk, and godsdamned tiaras when she would much rather be practising her aim with her blades.

“Oriana, you’ll be paired with Etienne for this drill.” The voice of Finnic cut through her thoughts, dragging her attention back to the heat and dust of the training arena.

Sure enough, the vampire in question flashed her a wink and dragged a hand through his hair to rake it back off his forehead.

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