Page 48 of Elven Crown

“Hey, Blackmoon!” Leonard called through the secondary armory’s open door. “You better listen to him, man. Hannigan’s not screwing around.”

“Punched a hole right through a nurúzhe just the other day,” another operator added before a murmur of assent rose from the others still sitting at their workstations. “With his bare hands. Went right through guts and everything.”

Now that the operatives assigned to weapon-cleaning and maintenance had given up trying to be covert, the ensuing silence while everyone stared through the door at Rowan—with his hand still clamped down on Maxwell’s shoulder—felt like a million pounds settling down on Rebecca’s own shoulders.

One wrong move, and it might crush her into dust at any second.

Maxwell glared at the elf man with more venom in one expression than he’d ever shown Rebecca.

When Rowan met the shifter’s gaze again, gauging his apparent opponent against all the warnings of others and judging the risks of what hewantedto do, Rebecca silently pleaded for him to just stand down and walk away.

Maxwell already took serious issue with being stared down by anyone, let alone Shade’s newest elven member. He wouldn’t stand for much else if this went on any longer.

Then Rowan barked out a laugh, and the bubble burst around the previous tension tightening like a noose.

“NowthatI would have loved to see!” he told Maxwell before removing his hand. “Not that I doubt your skills or strength,shifter. Obviously. Just that I wouldloveto finally find my match. What do you think?”

Maxwell turned his entire body to face Rowan directly, his silver eyes still flashing with all the warning of a wolf’s aggression and the inherent instinctual power that came with it. He did, however, seem to have pulled himself back under control. For now.

“Keep at it,” he grumbled, “and you’ll just end up being disappointed.”

“Aww. Pity.” Rowan feigned a pout. “I would have scored us with equal points in a few different categories.”

One corner of Maxwell’s mouth twitched as he looked Rowan up and down. “You haven’t found yourmatch. Just your superior.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened at that, and she expected Rowan to make one of his characteristic shifts from joking mockery to offended brawler at any second.

When he cracked up laughing instead, shaking his head and clapping his hands together in delight, she couldn’t keep from dipping her head to pinch the bridge of her nose with a sigh.

This really had to stop.

“You’re sosureof that, aren’t you?” Rowan shrieked through his laughter. “By the Blood! You’re like a caricature ofyourself.”

“All right, Blackmoon,” Rebecca finally cut in, stepping toward him and widening her eyes at Rowan.Someonehad to tell him he was taking this way too far. She just couldn’t tell him directly in any way that would signal she knew full well what he’d been trying to do. “I need you to step aside so Hannigan and I can get back to work.”

“What?” The elf barked out another laugh, then swiped a tear from the corner of his eye before blinking furiously at her. On anyone else, that expression would have looked like pure innocence. He’d almost mastered it.

“Come on,” he whined. “I passed the test. I swore an oath and everything. Now you’re saying I don’t get in on any of the action? Don’t try to convince me it isn’t safe enough. I mean, justlookat this guy.”

Rowan shoved Maxwell sideways by the shoulder, testing the shifter’s resolve and the limits of his patience, all while making himself look like the easygoing, fun-loving elf who couldn’t possibly mean anyone any harm.

And staring directly at Rebecca the whole time.

“I was just trying to have a little fun,” he added.

She knew better.

Something told her Maxwell did too. The shifter probably smelled all kinds of covert duplicity hovering around the Blackmoon Elf.

But, in pure Rowan fashion, he just had to take it a step too far.

He shoved Maxwell again, like he didn’t give a shit about the chain of command. Like he wanted Maxwell to snap and murder him right there in the hallway.

Or try.

Rebecca gaped at Rowan. It felt like the entire world ground to a halt with this testosterone-fueled conflict sucked into the very center of the universe.

In the secondary armory, someone gasped.

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