Chapter 31 #2
He’d taken me away and forced me to train, his version of training. The fact that I wasn’t strong enough to stop him or protect her only fueled the lengths I’m willing to go to destroy him.
“You’re standing in your own way, you fool,” I say smoothly, frowning against my fury.
She opens her mouth to object as I tug her back into position, inches between us.
“I told you,” she growls, anxiety vibrating through her words. “I’m not going to do what you want me to do. And the harder you push me, the more adamant I am.”
“Why?” The word bellows out of me.
This is what happens when you lose control. She flinches, her skin paling further and a small cry of pain escapes her throat. I loosen my grip slightly when I realize I’m holding her too tightly.
I force my expression into a flat mask, patiently waiting for her to answer. I swallow over a lump in my throat when she turns away.
“Just let me go.”
I push her back a step. Then another. She drops her gaze to her feet. I refuse to let go of her no matter how she tugs, and she blinks in surprise when her spine connects to the stone wall. Her pulse hitches, mouth falling open slightly.
“No,” I say darkly. “I’m not going to let you go. I’m—”
I bite my tongue against the rest of what I want to say. An irritated breath rattles out of her. Her pulse does a little triple pound in surprise.
Caged between me and the wall, I release her right hand and angle my hip to keep her from going for my thigh holster. Then, to keep her off guard, I tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear, watching her flinch.
Reveling in the softness.
She snarls at me in rage for the touch. She closes her fist to strike, but I push myself flat to her front.
“What possible reason do you have to say no to being a student here?” I ask.
Her gaze turns steely. “You.”
I sniff dismissively. “Think long and hard about your next move.”
My body practically trembles with the force of holding back my energy, and my skin goes oddly tight. Her hand whips out, aiming for my face, and I tilt away to avoid the slap and those dirt-stained nails.
She looks me over, and her eyes narrow. The thoughts churning in her head are practically written across her face, and none of them are decent.
So why does it make heat drop and pool at my core? Why do I have to fight doubly hard against the desire to grip her chin and crush my lips to hers?
“How many people have died at the end of your blade, Ryson?” she asks carefully.
Her question douses me in frigid guilt.
“What?”
“How many innocents have you gutted? How many fields have you turned into charnel houses? That’s how many bad deeds make you a monster. None of those deaths were ever in the name of good. They were in the name of ambition.”
I shake my head sharply. “You know better.”
“I know nothing about you. My entire village was cut down under you, under your father’s orders, and I nearly died in the effort. You murdered countless people simply because they refused to pay more than triple in taxes.”
My jaw clenches with the effort of holding myself back.
“Count your victims and get back to me. I’ll wait.”
Six hundred fifty-two. She doesn’t think I know the real number, but every single one of them is burned into my soul.
“I wish we didn’t live in a world where we have to fight for any small scrap of justice. You think I don’t?” I bite out the words. “I know better than anyone the cost of sacrifice and how necessary it is to make a difference.”
She rolls her eyes, and I resist the urge to strangle her.
“When are you going to get it through your head? Blood ties mean nothing unless you want them to. The point of life is to protect the weak and find your tribe, whether they’re your family or something else. I’m giving you the opportunity to fight the people who wronged you.”
Her jaw tenses. “And choose to fight for the man who killed my family, my village? Never.”
“You think I’m here by choice?” The words tear out of me before I can stop them.
“You think any of this—” I gesture around at the opulent room, at the privileges that mark me as Roman Ryson’s heir “—means I agree with what he’s doing?”
Her mouth opens slightly in surprise, but I can’t stop now. The dam has burst, and years of rage come flooding out.
“My father destroyed everything I loved. Burned it down while I watched, too weak to stop him.” The memory singes like acid. “You want to know what the plan is? The only way to stop a monster is to get close enough to drive the blade home.”
The silence that follows is deafening. I’ve said too much, revealed too much, but something in her expression has shifted. The hostility wavers.
“You’re lying,” she whispers, but there’s uncertainty in her voice now.
“Go on,” I push through gritted teeth. “I’m enjoying this. Tell me more about myself. I love a work of fiction.”
I can see her mind whirling, the argument reaching a dead end with neither one of us willing to bend.
I huff in frustration. “Think, Morgan. Learn. Train. Fight.”
Heat blossoms on her cheeks at my derision.
“This place can take you where you want to go, Fury. It can make those dark and depraved dreams in your head come true. And don’t try to lie to me and tell me you fall asleep at night to rainbows and unicorns. I’m not buying it. You dream for blood, and I’m offering you a way to get it.”
My gaze dances over the bruises on her face and the angry split on her lip.
“Paint your claws crimson. Wet your teeth in your enemy’s throat. Just say yes.”
She shakes her head. “You love to listen to the sound of your voice, don’t you?”
I say nothing for the longest time. Only watching her, cataloguing the sharpness in her tone. When I finally laugh, fury and shame war across her features.
“You dream about violence and an outlet for your anger. I’m giving it to you. So why in the Void are you fighting me so hard?”
I can see how the shame of that anger affects her. I recognize the signs—that mighty, suffocating weight that makes it difficult to breathe. I know it well.
Now we’re at an impasse.
“If you can pretend long enough to graduate, then you won’t be as alone as you think,” I add. “I promise you.”
I can see her ego bristling. My gaze stays latched on her face, and I lean forward.
“If you’re not going to listen, then I’m done trying to convince you.” I pause, let my meaning sink in. “You either find your tribe here, find people who feel the way you do, or you die. Only this time? You’ll take me with you. And it’s the price I’ll have to pay.”
I snap off the last word and shove her away from me.
She’s got the blade. She slipped it off me. But she’s stunned, rooted to the floor, watching me stalk toward the door.
I’ve given her just enough truth to poison everything she thought she knew. Now she has to decide what to do with it.
The question is: will she finally understand that we’re on the same side?