21. Lucina #3
His fist connects with the top of my shoulder, but it was definitely intended for my face. Thankfully, I’m only knocked back a few steps.
“Are you fucking with me?!” Callan shouts, and Pax glares at me even as he throws his next punch.
“Go stand with Hunter if you can’t be quiet,” I snap, ducking under the hit and throwing my own, but he dodges it with efficient speed.
“She’s gotta learn Cal.” Pax grunts when I jab him in the ribs, hard enough that he doubles over, cursing as he quickly rights himself. “Chiaros, Cin, you weigh like a hundred pounds how the fuck—”
I hit him again, a quick punch to his jaw, and he stumbles backwards.
“Remember what I said about your hands, Cin,” Callan warns, his voice tight and agitated.
“Special occasion,” I grit out, shaking out my knuckles as fire dances up and down the small bones there. Then I’m moving again. “Are you the teacher or the student, Pax?” I taunt, and he smiles. “Oh shit—”
He hits my collarbone, and I’m sent sprawling across the dirt. For a moment, everything spins, my fingers flexing as I pull myself up on my hands and knees.
“Fuck!” Pax curses, running over to help while Callan throws out death threats like it’s small talk, barreling across the ring like a raging bull.
I wait until Pax crouches at my side, then I hurl my elbow into his diaphragm. It knocks him off balance long enough for me to scramble back to my feet. “I told you not to go easy on me.”
“Lucina,” Callan pulls my attention, every inch of him rigid. “I’m not going to sit here and watch—”
“Then don’t,” I cut him off. “You’re leaving, and you won’t be able to intervene when you’re gone.”
A bitter sort of understanding flashes across his face, but I can’t rely on him for protection. I can’t rely on any of them for that matter. If what Delia said was true, I’d always be a threat to someone, and I’d always have something to defend, if not my power, then my life.
Be a weapon, that’s what the instructor would tell us, in body and mind.
I took those classes with Ivy because the one thing I never want to be is vulnerable.
I never again want to count chips in the paint, taking punishment like it was something I deserved, for merely existing.
For showing up out of the blue and throwing a wrench in Merrill’s drinking schedule.
For ruining Catherine’s dream of two boys with blonde hair and blue eyes. For ruining everything.
I became my own protector– the only person I could count on.
“Again,” I say to Pax.
We all meet by the Banyan hours later, the sun still burning, but the heat has died down. We spent all afternoon in the Yard, fighting until we had to take Pax to the infirmary to heal the broken nose I had given him.
The three of them fight like they were born in the training ring and when they finally stopped taking it easy on me, I got my shit rocked.
Multiple times. Hunter yanked my foot out from underneath me with such force that I slammed into my wrists, and I’m fairly certain something tore.
Gemma fixed it when we got to the infirmary, and Callan avoided her death glare like the plague.
“I need one of you by her side at all times,” the Captain tells Pax and Hunter.
Devon, Easton, and Phoenix are waiting by the trunk of the Banyan tree.
They’re all heavily armored, donning the suits and weaponry they were wearing when they found me on that beach.
Their padded vests are more like pitch black breast plates, and the rest of the armor is sleek and littered with compartments.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Callan adds. “Lucina is fond of sneaking out windows.” His brows knit as he surveys me. “Check on her throughout the night.”
I grind my jaw. Small kink in my plan, but it’s fine, I’ll figure it out. I force an innocent smile. “Good call.”
He’s onto me now, that grey hue in his eyes darkening, but what’s he going to do? Accuse me of something I haven’t done? Yet.
The Captain sighs, long and drawn out, then he stalks forward until he’s toe to toe with me.
“Lucina, if I come back, and you aren’t breathing, through your own foolishness or theirs…
” His back straightens like a predator coming to its full height, then he nods to Pax and Hunter.
“They will pay for it.” Big kink in my plans.
“So, don’t you dare get yourself killed.
” His eyes catch light like shards of silver-stained glass.
“Wouldn’t want their blood on your hands. ”
My smile falters. “Of course not.”
The corner of his mouth curves upward. “We’ll be back before Selumira.” I flinch at the flash of gold that illuminates the drooping limbs of the Banyan, the portal yawning open like a beast whose sleep has been disturbed. I watch as Phoenix melts into the velvet gold, then Easton, then Devon—
Callan grips my chin, tilting it gently until I meet his stare. “Be good, Chaos,” he whispers.
And then he’s gone.
The portal closes, the quiet night settling in around us, and the Eldral is a heavy weight in my pocket.