Page 101 of Kingmakers, Year Three

He left me. My father left me.

Just like my mother.

Everyone runs away eventually.

They get away from me, any way they can.

I check my watch—one of the only gifts my father ever bought for me. Plain and impersonal. Not any brand I particularly liked.

Snow’s class is about to begin. If I hurry, I can make it still.

I take off the watch and drop it on the steps of the Keep, stomping it with my heel until the face shatters. Then I keep walking, all the way to the Armory.

I change clothes quickly, wanting to catch up with the class. My heart is beating faster and faster as I pull on the gray gym shorts and white t-shirt. My body knows I’m ready to fight. My hands start to shake as I wrap them in turn and don my gloves.

I’m almost running by the time I enter the gym.

Snow has already paired off the students for sparring.

He glances up as I enter, and I can tell from his expression that he already knows.

“Dean—” he says, moving to intercept me.

I push past him, looking for someone to fight.

“Who wants to spar?” I shout. “Who’s got the stones? Jasper? Bram? Silas? Leo?”

I challenge them all, and I wish they’d all agree. I’ll fight all four at once. I’ll fight the whole fucking class.

“Dean,” Snow says, more forcefully, grabbing my shoulder.

I shake him off.

“COME ON!” I shout. “Who’s man enough to face me?”

Silas looks like he’ll take the bait. He takes a step forward and I’m already clenching my fists, ready to run at him until Snow intervenes.

“Everyone out,” he barks.

The class stares at each other for one brief second, before hustling off to the change rooms.

The impotent rage I feel might burn me alive.

I have to fight.

I need it.

I turn to face Snow, angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.

“I’LL FIGHT YOU THEN!” I howl. “I’m ready.”

Snow holds up his hands, saying, “I’m not going to?—”

But I’m already rushing him, swinging with all my might.

And I hit him. I fucking hit him, right in the jaw.

Then I hit him again, and again, and again.

---