Page 95 of Of Blood and Banes
He smiles. “Easy.”
Every time he pins me, I fight the urge to scream, especially as he finds a way to do it harder and harder. Like he’s trying to get me to relent. We knock things off the desk and slam into the wall with a force that rattles my teeth. He swipes my feet out from under me, and my elbow cracks on the floor as I attempt to catch myself, a scream ripping from my lips as I glare up at him. “Fucking asshole!”
“Lower your voice!” he snaps, dropping down to his heels in front of me and bracing a hand against the wall behind me. “Do you want the whole godsdamn town to hear you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the pain. “Of course not!”
He slaps a hand against the brick inches away from my ear to snag my attention. “That’s not lower!”
My breath rises and falls in quick succession in my chest, rage nearly blacking out my vision as I cradle my elbow and slowly, shakily, move my arm to loosen the stiffness. When I look back up at him, my heavy breathing through my nose is the only sound between us.
“Better.” He holds my glare, nodding his head. “Now calm the fuck down before someone thinks you need to be rescued.”
He has a point. I’m not necessarily in the mood to explain why I’m having secret training sessions with Darian in the middle of the night.
As soon as I slow my breathing, I whisper under my breath, “Asshole.”
“I know,” he mutters, then offers me a hand to help me up off the ground.
Ignoring the help, I stand and brush off my knees and back, straightening my spine as I look him in the eye. Aches pulse through my body like hotspots.
“I think that concludes our training for tonight. Unless, of course, you’d like to owe me an entire barrel. Though, best ofluck requesting that one from Sethan.” He sweeps back the long brown strands falling into his eyes.
At least they look damp enough to prove he had to work for his wins.Damn…am I getting good? Or is he just rusty after being a prisoner for weeks?
When I move to reattach his manacles, he taunts about his ability to overpower me. That he doesn’t have to have them back on. I remind him of the risks of pissing me off. Dungeons. No whiskey. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he needs me more than I need him.
Finally, we part ways, and I change into my nightgown before sliding into bed, my joints and muscles groaning. I’m unable to keep my thoughts from wandering to the night I spent on the ground where Darian currently is. At least I have a warm, comfortable bed to sleep in. I take the pillow I sank the dagger in earlier and toss it at Darian.
Feathers fall like snow in the space between the two of us, and he catches the pillow before it can hit the ground. He watches me with a questionable side eye.
Without another word, I turn my back to him, close my eyes, and settle into sleep.
CHAPTER 32
ASHFALL
My morning starts with aches in places I didn’t realize I have. A dull fire lies within my bones. Marge must have decided after I saved the town from burning, I could take a break from training sessions last night.
As Darian and I step out onto the street of Vathstone and close the door behind us, a middle-aged woman steps out of the home beside ours. Her eyes sweep over into our direction, then widen, her cheeks reddening by the second before she hurries down the charred cobblestone street in the opposite direction.
Oh Gods…my own cheeks flush in heat.Did she hear me screaming? All the thumps against the wall? Did she think we were?—
Darian snickers next to me, clearly thinking the same thing. I smack his arm to quiet him, but it does little to quell his smug grin.
We gather with the rest of Sethan’s soldiers, our dragons, and our squad on the western outskirts of Vathstone. The salt air wafts over me, and I glance out at the ocean in the distance. Sethan warns the group we won’t be flying on dragon back until after we pass Ashfall. It’s too risky.
We riders mount our dragons and lead the wagons with the rest of our people. We pass over rolling hillsides, across small creeks, and through wooded areas until the land slopes down into a soft crater walled over by a gray mist. At the front of our group, A’nala and Sethan pause.
Daeja growls beneath me, and I pat her neck.“What is it?”
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
A’nala spins her head toward us, staring directly at Daeja and narrowing her eyes. I don’t need to know what she says because her expression alone conveys she wishes Daeja to silence herself.
Sethan turns in his saddle toward the several wagons behind us chattering and holds a finger to his lips. An eerie silence settles over our group, the previous muffled conversations dying out. Some of our squad members lean out of the wagons to peek at why we’ve stopped.
But there’s nothing to see. A blank, looming wall of gray that stretches from the ground to the sky, void of texture or shade. The faded path dips down a gentle slope and disappears from view.
