Page 99 of Of Blood and Banes
The first night we stayed here in Silkwood, I was so exhausted from returning the ripples back to the earth that I slept almost a full twenty-four hours. A bone-tired exhaustion still weighs on me, but I brush it aside, unable to give into it with how close we are to arriving at Vitalis. Sethan gave me a questioning look when I asked him for a flask of whiskey, but he didn’t push me further on it. Only stated we need to stay here in Silkwood a few days while he waits for extra soldiers coming in from Bayrock to escort our group through the mountain range to the old castle ruins.
According to Melaina, our next stop is Pinepoint, and within the last few weeks there have been rumors of undercover rebels settling into the surrounding cities to recruit more members. A secret rebellion looking to overthrow Sethan and hunting for one person.
Me.
Now that the King knows without a doubt someone wears the Blood Ring, word has been spreading throughout the lands. The Vitalan rebels want me dead. The King’s Close Circle who’ve snuck over the border lie in wait to kidnap me. Outside of the people within our group, there’s not anyone I can trust.
Darian waves me off and ties the nightgown around his forehead, successfully shielding his eyes. “Need I remind you I’ve seen you naked. You don’t need to blush that I’ve touched your nightgown. It’s not like I’ve grabbed any of your little unmentionables.”
I stare at where his eyes would be beneath the nightgown. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m dead serious.” His stupidly sculpted lips lift in a tempestuous smile.
I palm his chest like it’ll actually prompt him to change his stubborn mind.
He rolls his shoulders back and rotates his head around his neck, stretching his arms across his chest before he shakes his hands out at his sides and powers his stance. He lifts his fists underneath his pointed chin. “Let’s go.”
A blind Darian should be easy enough to beat.Right?With a soft inhale, I raise my own fists, testing his vision in case he’s peeking. I slide to the right, and his head follows me. Slide to the left, then duck down. He still follows my motion.
“You’re cheating,” I whisper, loud enough to draw his attention back to the right.
“No, I’m not. I can just sense where you are.”
As he speaks, I tip-toe far to the left. His head is still pointed toward the last spot I whispered.
I swing a quick left hook toward his waist, and he snatches me as quick as a frog catches a fly. His strong fingers grip my wrist until I relax my hand open.
He rips me into him, lowering his face so we’re nose to nose. At least I don’t have to look into those unforgivable, endless green eyes. Then he pushes me out of his grasp, and I fumble backward, barely catching my balance before I can topple over. As I circle around him, he stands rigid. Still facing away from me. I lunge for his back, and he spins toward me as he drops low. Avoiding my attack completely, he seizes my arm and twists his grip to spin me into submission. I throw a punch, and he glides left, releasing me. Another punch, and he glides right. I snatch the collar of his shirt and throw all my weight into him until I pin him against the wall.
My forearms rest against his strong chest, my legs pressed against his as I trap him between me and the wall. As I smile in victory, he swoops an arm around my waist and rips me up off my feet. I kick pathetically at his shins as he spins to shove me against the wall.
“And here you thought you had me. Next rule. Don’t assume. And don’t…” His voice drops as he skates a hand up to my ribs, leaving shivers in his wake. “Let…” He leans in, his sharp nose brushing against the side of mine. “...your…” He stops a hair’s width from my lips. So close that if I breathed, if I even could in such a scenario, we might touch.
“...guard down.”
Something touches my ribs, and I retreat from his face to look down. He somehow managed to find the dagger hidden at my side and now threatens me with my own weapon, tapping the razor-sharp tip against me.
I flick my glare up at him, and even though he’s still wearing the nightgown tied over his eyes, I hope my gaze is hot enough to burn through the fabric.
“I’ve been merciful and tolerant. Patient, even. I think I deserve something extra special after this session, don’t you think?” He smiles as he presses the blade gently into the sideseam of my shirt and drags it down with a cautious precision until a few of the threads pop, and the fabric breaks open an inch.
“What do you want?” I grunt and shove him away from me. I cup a hand over the hole he’s created. Thank the Gods Marge taught me how to sew, otherwise it might be an awkward explanation later on.
He takes his blindfold—my nightgown—off, then brings it to his nose with a clenched fist. With dark, hooded eyes, he breathes in deeply. “I keep this.”
I snatch it out of his hands. “In your dreams.”
“You’re not wrong.”
I grab for my dagger in the hand at his side, and he lifts it up and out of my reach.
His voice dips into a scold. “Ahh, ahh. You rely far too much on your weapons, rather than yourself. You need to think outside of the box in instances where you don’t have a simple dagger or sword. Next lesson. Anything is a weapon if you’re creative enough.”
Snatching the plate with cheeses off a bedside table Corvin brought earlier today while I slept, he smashes it over his knee like he’s done it a thousand times before. He takes two of the biggest pieces in his hands, tossing one of them up in the air and catching it several times over in an arrogant show.
Just as I’m about to scold him for breaking an item when the town of Silkwood has been so generous to let us stay, my eyes narrow in on one of the wall sconces, blazing with fire behind him.
Fine. If he wants creative…
