Page 22 of Power of Draken

She gives me a pitiful look, like I’m lying to myself.

I switch tacks, though I’m not sure why I’m bothering. “Actually, I'm already with someone. So fuck Logan all you like. Twice a day. Three times a night. I'll be cheering for you. Not in person though. I really don't want to be supportive of any of this in person ever again."

She frowns, her pretty face turning pensive before she snaps her fingers. "Wait. I’m sorry, who you are just clicked into place for me now. You are one of Collin Chambers’s girls, aren't you?"

One of them? I don't like the implication, but I also suspect that Alyssa is trying to get under my skin. Instead of giving her the satisfaction, I plaster on a big smile and reach for the door handle. “Exactly right. So see, not your competition at all."

"Oh sweetheart, you were never my competition." Her voice drips with pity as she saunters off and I wonder what living in her head must be like.

I take a deep breath, remind myself that the world is full of Alyssas, and push open the door to Logan's room—remembering, at the last moment, the danger of that particular move. Too late now.

I shut my eyes quickly, lest he has Alyssa number two bent over another piece of furniture.

“All safe now,” Logan says dryly.

I pull the door closed. “Just to clarify, that means your cock is inside your pants, correct?”

“For the moment.”

Asshole. I open my eyes to find Logan sitting atop his desk, the same one that Alyssa had been recently bent over. His britches are thankfully in place, even if his knees are sprawled wide apart. He tosses a dagger into the air, lets it spin, then catches it by the hilt. “So, you are the alchemist."

"And you are Kai's headache. Well, his other headache."

“Pleasure to meet you.” Logan makes an elaborate bow then slides off the table, coming closer to study me. He is tall like the azure twins, his shoulders easily clearing my head, but his eyes are a honey gold. His openly appreciative gaze traces my hips and chest. I get the sense that this is his version of being polite, since there is nothing there to actually appreciate, especially on Alyssa’s heels.

Then his gaze lands on my face and the good humor sizzles from his eyes like a doused flame.

It takes me a moment to realize that he is staring at my scars. So much for pretenses of polite behavior. His hand flickers at his side, as if he is about to reach forward but then doesn’t. "Where is that from?"

"The past." I touch the raised marks. It's been more than six years now, but I can still feel the terror of seeing the wolf’s maw come at me. The pain and blood that came next. Being told how fortunate I was that the animal had just punctured my flesh instead of ripping it from my bones altogether. How stupid I’d been to get close to begin with.

An unreadable expression runs over Logan's features—unreadable, yet it sucks all the joy and humor from the room. He isn't looking at me with admiring eyes anymore. Not at all. And even though I knew from the start it had been nothing but a flattery game, for some reason it still stings.

I clear my throat. "So, according to Grayson, you are to help me pass my fitness test and I'm?—"

"That won't be happening."

"Which part exactly? Because I'm right with you about the fitness test. Math on the other hand, that we can do."

Logan flips his dagger again then throws the damn thing into the wall, so close to my left ear that I feel the wind as it rushes by. "No part is happening. The part of you and me doing anything together. That's the part that's not happening."

"But Grayson?—"

"I'll deal with Grayson." He walks past me and opens the door, clearly inviting me to leave. The turnabout is so swift that my wits whiplash and I speak before considering the wisdom of doing so.

"What the fuck just happened?” I ask.

“I opened the door. The next step is you going through it. Which part confuses you?” There is no laughter in his voice, no easy grace in his broad shoulders. Frankly, he was more congenial when he had his cock inside Alyssa.

I touch my scar, which seems to have been the catalyst for the turnabout and try to fool myself into insisting that I don't care. That if Logan’s decision point hinges on whether I look Alyssa-perfect, that’s commentary on him more than me. I know all the right things to say to myself. I even know that they are probably true. But the reminder that I'm damaged goods and will be forever still crushes my chest. Because that part is also true.

I walk out of Logan’s room, managing to hold my head up high as I pass him. Small victory.

Exiting the combat cadets’ barracks, I scramble for something to keep myself occupied and my mind off what just happened. I check the time. The one good thing that came from Logan throwing me out early is that I should be able to catch Collin while he is changing to look presentable for formation. We won’t have much time, but I long to feel his arms around me. Long for reassurance that the people who truly care for me don't give a damn about scars.

Despite the pressing of time, I make a quick detour to the kitchen and swipe a couple of scones out from beneath the nose of a plump cook who kindly pretends not to notice. Loot in hand, I dash for the enchanters’ barracks.

"Orange cranberry for the win,” I say, pushing the door open with my shoulder. "Because we are celebrating?—"

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