Chapter 5 Reyes
Reyes
Shadows offer me cover as I wait. Sweat coats my palm as it tightens around the leather-wrapped handle of my dagger, and the thud of footsteps inside the storage building make me tense.
The porous surface of the bricks catches the fabric of my shirt as I peek through the window to track his movements.
Black hair bobs in a sauntering stroll, and once he’s finished with his mission, he moves towards the exit. The blaring sun shines directly onto the front door, and I use it to my advantage as I wait for him to step outside.
Is it cheating to do this when his arms are full of rice and beans? Probably.
Do I care?
Absolutely not.
I launch myself from the shadows with my dagger drawn, aiming for Ronan’s weaker left side. Mere inches before I make contact, he swings, and a ten-pound sack of beans smashes me in the face.
“Oh, motherfucker!” I shout as I stagger backward, gripping my nose as stars flash in my vision.
“So clunky on those feet,” Ronan chides with a bored click of his tongue. “Tiny human that makes so much noise.”
“I’m not tiny,” I argue with a scowl, still holding my throbbing nose. Fuck, it hurts. Ronan looks infinitely pleased with himself as I gesture at my five-foot-nine frame. “I am perfectly average.”
He snickers as he gives me a snooty once-over. “Yes, average is a good word to describe you, isn’t it?”
My eyes narrow, and I flash my teeth at him, but he only laughs harder in that infuriatingly condescending way he has.
“Maybe you’re just a shitty teacher,” I taunt, and his laughter fades to a growl as he bares his fangs at me.
“Three lessons now, and I can’t even sneak up on someone? You must not be doing something right.”
“Cocky little asshole,” he snarls, and my grip tightens on my dagger. The blade is real, but blunt enough not to pose an actual threat to Ronan or Elas. When we started these sessions, I suggested a wooden practice knife so I wouldn’t hurt them. Ronan laughed me out of the room.
Let’s see him laugh now.
“Yeah, well—” My words cut off abruptly as my gaze fixes over his shoulder. “Who the fuck is that with Cameron?”
“What?!” he growls, whipping to stare at where Cameron sits alone beside the boiling cauldron, sanitizing glass jars for the upcoming harvest.
While Ronan is distracted—and before I can second-guess myself or my sanity—I grab a few strands of his hair. The dull blade tugs as it slides through them, and he freezes, predatorially still. He turns to face me, his eyes dropping to the dozen long strands pinched in my fingers.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper as the black of his pupils expands.
“What have you done?!” he bellows, and instinct sends me into a dead sprint. He roars behind me, and his feet thump on the ground like a countdown to my demise.
“Fuck!” Every head outside pops up and stares in my direction, and I will my legs to move faster.
“No, no, no, no… Cameron! August!” I wail, and Cameron watches me with a wicked grin while August stares from the porch with wide eyes.
“Someone save me! Please! He’s going to… he’s going to kill meeeaaaaaAAHH!”
Ronan tackles me from behind, and I grunt as we hit the ground together. The air whooshes from my lungs as he pins me there, easily eighty pounds heavier than me. “Did you seriously cut my hair?” he shouts from on top of me, and I whine as I lift my head in search of a savior.
“Oh, you done fucked up,” Cameron says with a laugh.
“It was only a few strands!” I wheeze through strangled breaths. “A tiny little spot no one will ever see! Let me up!” I wedge my elbows beneath my torso and try to lift myself, but he shoves me back down and forces another grunt from my throat. “You can’t just use your weight to pin me!”
“Looks like it’s working fine to me.”
“Yeah, well, just because you’re getting a gut doesn’t mean you have to make it a weapon,” I taunt.
Cameron inhales sharply, then cheerfully yells, “That was maybe not the best move!” Ronan’s fingers fist my curls and lift my chin from the ground.
“First you cut my hair, now you tell me I’m getting a gut?” he growls near my ear, low and oh, so dangerous.
“It’s not your fault happy people get fat,” I gasp as he pushes his body even harder on mine. It forces out the last of my breath, making my voice come out in a barely there squeak. “And you are very, very happy. So happy. The happiest.”
Ronan pitches forward, most likely to wrap his hands around my neck. His weight lifts from my chest long enough for me to take a gasping inhale, and I use the opportunity to buck off the ground, trying to throw him. He only chuckles darkly as those fingers squeeze in my hair until it stings.
“Think he can last eight seconds?” Cameron asks August, who watches in concerned amusement with his arms crossed and a smile ticking over his lips. “Reyes, I mean. Not Ronan. He can definitely last longer than that.”
“Okay!” I shriek, trying again in vain to knock Ronan off me. “I’m sorry for cutting your hair, alright? I thought it would be fine, like last time!”
“Last time?” he bellows.
“Yeah, when I chopped off that huge chunk in the back and you didn’t even notice…”
“What?!” Ronan roars as he reaches behind him to feel his long locks.
His distraction allows me to spin onto my back, and dust flies as I scramble out from underneath him.
My foot lands on his stomach, a little harder than strictly necessary.
But despite my commentary about his gut, the kick probably hurts my ankle more than his rock-hard abs.
He coughs an outraged grunt while I apply a move he taught me last session. My body twists around him until I find the leverage to force him onto his ass. Sweat stings my eyes as I push my blade to his neck, indenting the skin as his chest heaves beneath me.
“Gotcha,” I gasp, air wheezing from my lungs and my muscles burning from the struggle.
I might feel as if I’ve been hurled down a mountain face-first, but by the fucking gods, I’m going to parade my win.
Ronan growls low in his throat as he snaps his jaws at me, and I decide that a victory lap is not worth losing a finger.
I shriek, scrambling away from those fangs.
“Fuck, you’re a rabid animal! Bad dog! Down! ”
“You cheat, human,” he spits.
“Don’t get pissed because I’m strategic.
You told me to learn my opponent’s weak spots.
It’s not my fault yours is that fucking hair.
” Ronan lurches forward, and I squawk again as I prepare to run, but Elas’s hearty laugh catches both our attention.
He claps his hands as he approaches and flashes me a grin.
“Distraction is a perfectly valid technique, Ronan, and it fits Reyes.”
“Thanks?” I say, catching my breath with stinging lungs. With a dangerous glare still fixed on me, Ronan grumbles and stands, brushing off his clothes with a little too much hostility for my liking.
Cameron chuckles as he walks over and picks the forgotten bags of food off the ground.
He passes them to August, who only shakes his head as he carries them inside, and then Cameron’s attention is focused solely on Ronan.
The purple fiend’s face softens into a puddle of lovesick goo as he watches his approaching mate.
“Why don’t you work off some of that aggression?
” Cameron purrs as he drags his palm down Ronan’s chest, then lifts onto his toes to plant a kiss on his mouth.
I track the movement of his hand until he grips the waist of Ronan’s pants, where there is a very noticeable bulge pushing against the denim.
“My eyes,” I wail as I throw a palm over my face, uncaring that it’s covered in dust and grime from our tussle. Anything is better than seeing him in that state, because that…
I peek between my fingers because really, curiosity gets the best of everyone.
Yep.
That is large and terrifying.
I whine again and shake my head against my hands. “There are certain things you can never unsee, and that is burned into my fucking retinas, man. Burned! For eternity! There is zero chance I am fighting you while you have the advantage of two swords.”
Cameron sputters against Ronan’s mouth, and Elas howls with laughter.
I begrudgingly drop my hands as a grumbling Ronan puts his hands on his hips and tilts his face to the sky.
It’s obvious he’s searching the heavens for patience, but history proves he never finds it.
The guy’s fuse is shorter than his tiny teeth.
I smirk to myself, and as if he can read my mind, Ronan’s eyes whip towards mine in a glare. He’s poised to charge me again, but Elas stops him with a heavy hand on his shoulder, his mouth twitching as he tries not to laugh. “Why don’t you, uh, go take care of that? I’ll work with Reyes today.”
Ronan doesn’t bother with a response, just tosses a shocked Cameron over his shoulder and stalks towards their house.
Cameron shrieks, but quickly gives up the fight.
Glasses askew, he tosses us a cocky wink as he slaps Ronan’s ass.
It doesn’t escape anyone’s notice that the Anunian marches even faster.
“Mates,” I mutter with a whole-body shudder. Elas chuckles as he grabs his weapon and assumes a fighting stance before me.
“Hey, Reyes?” A low, slightly threatening growl rumbles in his voice.
“Uh, yeah?” I ask, my brow lifting as my eyes dart across his frame.
His giant, seven-foot, massively muscled frame.
“Cut my hair and see what happens.”
An hour later, I’m sore as I drag myself along the pathway.
Actually, that’s a lie. I’m not sore.
I’m dead on my fucking feet. A walking corpse.
My muscles hurt so much, it feels like my aches have aches. There are strained, exhausted places on my body that I’m pretty sure I’d never even used before today.