Page 167 of Of Blood and Banes
He leans slightly forward to her. “I love you. I aminlove with you. And if you don’t feel the same anymore, just tell me.”
“She doesn’t,” Sethan growls.
Archie slams a fist down on the table and swipes a knife from his setting, flicking it in his expert fingers and pointing it directly at Sethan. “Stop talking. Not your turn.”
I flinch at the seriousness in his voice, but pride bubbles within my chest. A small grin pulls at my lips at the sheer shock slapped across Sethan’s features.
Archie pins his attention back on Melaina as he whispers, “I can handle it. Just tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll leave you alone. I will let you go.”
Melaina shakes her head, her chest rising and falling as she glances between Sethan and Archie before she shoves up from her chair. “I can’t,” she says with a cracking voice and bolts toward the exit.
Sethan pushes up from his chair, and Archie stabs the knife down into the table, staring Sethan down before warning, “No. You stay here. This does not concern you.”
And then he follows Melaina out.
When silence settles over our group, Sethan obeying Archie’s command, I turn back to face Sethan. “What do you know about god relics? The woman who captured us mentioned them, and she wanted to know where the Book of Magic is. Did you take any survivors for questioning?”
Sethan’s brown eyes narrow at me. But he answers, “No, there were no survivors. Your dragonfire destroyed them all. As for god relics…” He looks down at his wine glass and mindlessly runs his middle finger around the lip. “Never heard of them. And the Book of Magic has been long lost. For more years than I can count.”
CHAPTER 53
LIKE I HATE YOU
“You’re pissed off,” Darian points out.
I pause from taking my braid out, then shake my fingers to loosen the strands. I’m not sure if I should be mad at Melaina for not sticking up for herself or mad at Sethan for thinking he had a say in her love life. Not to mention, Archie is an incredible man. And I don’t just think that because he’s my best friend but because it’s true. He deserves all the happiness the world has to offer him, and if that source of joy is Melaina, and she feels the same, there shouldn’t be a reason to keep them apart.
Yep, definitely pissed at Sethan.
Especially considering all the past transgressions I have with Sethan. Torturing Darian. Admitting to witnessing him being beaten by his father and not doing anything about it. Constantly cutting Archie down, despite him being an asset to our group, just because he felt like he didn’t deserve his daughter because he thinks he’s‘weak.’ Questioning many of my decisions because he thinks I’m‘weak,’too.
“Great observational skills you have there,” I finally mutter a response to Darian, flipping my hair to my back and unlacing my boot.
“Take it out on me,” Darian whispers silkily.
I look up at him through the wall of my hair sliding into my face, then toss my boot to the side before removing the other one. “In what way?”
He smirks. “In whatever way you want.”
I blink and straighten, anger still pumping through my veins as thick as my own blood. It should make sense to continue our training…right? If we only have until the darkest night to take down the King, I’ll need to be the sharpest tool I can forge. And channeling all my negative emotions into something productive feels freeing.
He follows my exact train of thought. “You go off and do your own training every night, even without Margie. But I’m still here. And…” He slides his gaze over to the bottles on the desk with a sly grin. “I still love liquor. So, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll still uphold our fragile little agreement of exchanging liquor for lessons. You win, and I win.”
I chew on my lip, mulling over the tempting offer and glancing over at the bottles. Had it not been for him teaching me how to channel my anger and use my left hand to wield, who knows if I would have been able to defend my side against the rebels. I know for a fact, even if I don’t want to admit it, Darian’s training is working.
With a sigh, I stalk across to the bottles and grab one, flipping off the lid and taking a swig before turning to him. He rises expectantly from sitting on the stone floor, his chains rattling with the motion.
What he’s saying is right. Even if I won’t say it. And even if I feel like I can’t move on, the world won’t stop spinning for me.
I need to keep training.
I stride over to him, unlock his shackles, and then hand him the bottle of liquor. As I walk to the farthest wall to grab my sword, he takes a few drinks and groans in pleasure. I reach formy sword’s hilt, and hesitate. Darian won’t kill me, and fighting him without a weapon wasn’t doing me any favors in terms of learning. Glancing at him, I snatch my daggers instead and return to him, handing him one.
“Interesting,” he purrs, running a fingertip up the sharp edge. “You know, daggers are personal. Intimate, even.”
I take a few steps back from him, readying my stance and waiting for him to drop the conversation.
He pricks the tip of his finger on the blade and flicks his thumb across the small bead of blood, smearing it. He looks up at me and whispers, “So you don’t feel bad when you make the first cut.”
