Page 83 of Ascension

I use her previous words to buoy my own spirits. This situation is only temporary, I remind myself. I wave goodbye to the others before turning back to Kyros and following him wordlessly to the back office. I keep my gaze unfocused, not wanting to connect with his honey-brown ones.

He steps towards me, arms going to wrap around me. I quickly step out of the would-be embrace, walls wholly in place.

“I have to—” he starts, but I cut him off and extend a hand for him to take instead.

He tentatively reaches out as though he’s scared that I might retreat once more. His fingers gently twine with mine, but I shut out the feeling of comfort his warm hand encircling mine evokes and shut my eyes. My body prepares itself for the now-familiar sensation of weightlessness overtaking me.

I withdraw my hand as my feet form on the cobblestone path outside. Without missing a beat, I climb the stairs, not bothering to wait for him. The faster I get to the room, the faster I can decompress from this whirlwind day. I don’t look behind me, pulling the door open and making a beeline towards the stairs to the second floor.

“Olivia,” he calls out from behind me. I pause on the stairs, mere feet from the salvation of the bedroom door.

“Can we talk?” He stops at the bottom of the stairs. I don’t dare turn around, not wanting to let this draw out even further. Why couldn’t he just let this go? I grit my teeth, not wanting to show him any of my emotions.

“I’ve said all that I need to.” Relief washes over me at the sound of my voice, calm and neutral. None of the anger, hurt, or coldness I feel seeping through.

I put one foot in front of the other, ascending the rest of the stairs, and pull the door closed behind me. I lean my back against the wood panel, the cold seeping into my skin through the barrier of my clothes. They have to find the demon master, please let Kali’s prediction be right. I don’t think I can take more than a week like this.

* * *

The next dayis more of the same, the awkward tension remaining between us when Kyros takes me back to campus. He opens his mouth more than one time, words poised on the tip of his tongue. Yet, I ignore it. Ignore the overwhelming urge to ask him what he feels he needs to say. Instead, I walk away, not looking back out of fear.

I feel his eyes on me throughout the class, casting furtive glances my way, despite the entire class’s eyes focused on him. They hang on to his every word. Everyone is now concentrating on the collective goal of passing our exams. Even Katrina puts away her shitty attitude, listening to the lecture rather than inserting her two cents into everything.

I breeze by him out the open door, not allowing him to get out whatever he has on his mind. I need to focus on finals, not men. I see the disappointment cross his face, but I can’t let him say anything else. Of course, he doesn’t know that Maximus already told me they considered me a burden.

I don’t need him to fumble with words in an attempt to avoid hurting my feelings. The message is already clearly received. Now all I have to do is distance myself.

A familiar figure joins me, pulling off from the wall in the exact spot he waited for me the day before. I send a glare over my shoulder at him, not caring about taking out my anger on him.

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” he quips, voice still a low grumble despite his attempt at a joke.

“Someone’s still an asshole today,” I snark back. Not bothering to even look beside me. I already feel his presence at my side. “No big surprise there.” I feign a gasp and stride through the classroom door, cutting off his reply. Thankfully, I’m on time today.

The day is more of the same, Maximus is a constant pain in my ass. He glares at everyone around us until they leave a berth around us. My anxiety ratchets up in combat and I pull my attention from my laps around the gym to glower at him over my shoulder as he leans against the wall brooding. His face pulls into a sneer as the students pass him. Many of them trip over their own feet in a desperate attempt to steer clear of him.

“Pick it up, Olivia,” Professor Barros bellows from the middle of the room. My cheeks heat from embarrassment, which quickly turns to anger as my eyes lock on the reason for my distraction.

To my surprise, Maximus does the absolute last thing I would have predicted. My eyes are glued to the movement as he shrugs the leather jacket off his shoulders, slinging it off to the side. I focus on how the tight black shirt clings to his defined pecs. He pulls the tight shirt up and over his head, his biceps bulging with the movement.

I almost trip over my feet at the sight. My eyes trail over his bare chest and chiseled six-pack on full display, before they meet his amused gaze, catching me red handed. I turn my head so fast a twinge of pain shoots up my neck—sure I just gave myself whiplash. I try to play it cool, as though he hadn’t just caught me checking him out, while massaging the knot in my neck.

I feel his presence coming up behind me, and the usual dark shadow casts over me as he reaches my side. “No wonder you need everyone else to protect you if that’s how you run,” he mutters, pulling ahead of me. Exuding power through his long, effortless strides.

A snarl escapes my lips at his taunt. My glare narrows in on his broad, bare back. I’m fucking done with this asshat. I quickly pass the other students around me, picking up my pace. My target is set straight on his ass—no, notonhis ass. I shake my head, pulling my gaze from his finely toned … glutes. My target is tokick his ass.

I pump my legs harder, moving as fast as I can. My mind does not allow any room for failure, so I push myself to my limit, finally catching up with Maximus at the finish mark.

I swear I see a look of begrudging respect cross his face before I barrel into him, sending us both careening across the floor. To my surprise, he holds me against his chest, taking the brunt of the impact.

“What the fuck—” he growls, still holding me against him as we come to a stop. I waste no time—not deigning to respond. I pull out of his grasp, raising up on my knees to straddle his waist.

Bringing my fists up, I slam them into him, landing the blows with precise accuracy. The pain comes as a shock, my brain pushing through the momentary pause to resume pounding my fists into his chest. His flesh is unyielding. Pain splinters up my arm. My anger pushes me forward, despite knowing the blows have little to no effect on him.

“I’m not weak,” I growl out between gritted teeth, biting back the cry of pain—his chest is like boulders against my knuckles.

“I know.” He snarls back, hands finally moving up to capture mine. His large palms dwarf my own. “You just needed to realize that yourself.”

I pause my desperate attempt to wrench myself free from his grasp at that. Staring back down at him, I watch both our chests heaving labored breaths in and out. His expression is open for the first time I can remember, not narrowed in a glare. Simply scanning my face, my body.

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