Page 117 of Of Blood and Banes
“Why is he looking at me like that? Whatever it is, tell him no.”
Archie continues, “Melaina has always wanted to ride a dragon…A’nala is far too big…”
Daeja snorts.“Excuse me? I don’t like where this is going.”
“...and Sethan wouldn’t allow her to ride anyway.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And so, to the wind with Sethan’s reservations?”
“As you said…it’s a good thing I’m not in love with him, right?” Archie smiles.
CHAPTER 38
SIT DOWN
Later that night, after the sun has set and the moon is high in the sky, Sethan returns to lead us all to our individual residences in Pinepoint. With the promise of two elk carcasses reserved just for her by the end of the week, Daeja agreed to fly Melaina and Archie later in the night.
As soon as Sethan’s soldiers hook Darian’s shackles into the wall and leave, an awkward silence falls between us.
I sit on the bed with my back to him, unlacing my boots.
“Did you bring me any whiskey?” Darian asks.
“No.”
“Why not? Are you not wanting to continue your training?”
I ignore him, biting down into my lip to keep the sadness at bay. Perhaps it was only luck that I was able to save Vathstone from burning down. And returning the ripples back to the ley lines in Ashfall. What good am I if I can’t save a life? Can’t save more than just buildings or souls already passed?
And while I’m relieved I came clean to Archie, admitting my feelings out loud only opened the hole in my heart where Cole is. It’s simple. I still love him.
“People die all the time. You better get used to it,” Darian says with a casualness that stings. “No need to mope about.”
“Stop talking,” I mutter, removing one boot with quick, angry movements.
“You’re pissed. Good. Remember what I told you last? You use it as fuel. Slowly. Deliberately. If you explode, you’ll only hurt yourself.”
I rip my second boot off and throw the pair of them near the door. “Oh, fuck off. Like you know anything about me.”
He lifts his chin with a broad arrogance. “Take it out on me. Come fight me.”
“I said fuck. Off,” I growl.
He taps his chest, then splays his hands as wide as his long chain connecting his wrists will allow him. “Get your ass over here and make me.”
I storm across the room, snatching my sheath from where it leans against the wall and drawing my sword with ease as I meet his eyes. Hoping it’s enough of a show to shut him up, and he’ll actually leave me alone. “I mean it.”
He presses on with a smirk, adamant to push me off the edge I’m teetering on. “AndImean it. Come over here and make me fuck off. We can even pretend you can actually fucking hit me.”
Shaking my head against the mounting rage, I close the distance between us and swing the sword in the direction of his chest, and when he jumps back, catching my blade with his chains, something flashes in my heart when I miss him—relief.
“Good,” he purrs. “More.”
I swing again and again, channeling my frustration slowly with each swipe, as he’s suggested. Each move grows dangerously close to slicing him, until he stops with his back against the wall, his chin still lifted high.
I prowl toward him, keeping the blade pointed at his throat as my chest rises and falls. “I’ve got you pinned.”
“So, it seems.” He slowly spreads his fingers open in a silent surrender.
