Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
My dreams that night were dark and troubled. I dreamed of ashes raining from the sky, of an unseen dragon’s fire blistering my skin as I screamed. I jolted awake, then lay in the dark for too long, waiting for morning to come.
When dawn did arrive, I washed and dressed. The lavish room still seemed too quiet and lonely. I wondered what it was like behind the door into the dormitory; I’d been groggy when I was in Fieran’s room. Did it feel more like a kind of home on the other side?
When I stepped out of my room, I almost tripped over Rees. He was sleeping against my door, and he looked up reproachfully.
“Well, I didn’t step on you,” I defended myself. “I didn’t know you’d be there.”
He rose and walked into my room as if I had been wrong to lock him out. I blew out a perplexed breath. He was probably just searching my room for treats.
The dog’s behavior was so strange that I almost missed the glint of gold on the floor.
I glanced around for whoever had left it, but I was alone. When I knelt, the awkward hilt of my kitchen knife jammed into my ankle. I picked it up, running my thumb over the embossed gold print.
I picked up the gold coin. It was heavier than I expected, smooth except for the raised engraving I slid my thumb over. Had someone dropped this?
Rees emerged from my room, looking slightly guilty—he had definitely found my food reserves—and as if in apology, he came to me and settled down. Then he rolled onto his side, sprawling onto my feet.
Fieran emerged from the hall, yawning, his dark hair rumpled, and still pulling his tunic on. The expanse of his tanned, flat abs and a hint of dark ink caught my eye before his shirt fell the rest of the way to cover him, and I jerked my gaze away.
The Fae and the shifters were more horrible because they were so beautiful, like flowers with poisoned thorns. But none were more deceptive, lying in every line of charming face and chiseled body, than Fieran.
“Cara.” He came to a halt. He seemed surprised to see me, and even though I’d been waiting for him, my heart sped rebelliously. “I didn’t think you’d be awake yet.”
“Don’t we have training to do? If you want someone to get me ready to take a hit, Fieran, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”
“It’s early,” he said, in a long-suffering, slightly heavenward way that made me unsure if he was complaining to me or to the gods.
“Anayla told me that if I wanted to survive, I’d have to get used to early mornings.”
“And have you decided to live?” Fieran’s tone was mild as he headed for the arched door out to the stairs.
I wasn’t sure he’d meant that as an invitation, but I followed him anyway. “Long enough to make your life difficult.”
“You’ve been making my life difficult since I noticed a strange star.” He glanced back at me, the morning light gilding the cut of his jaw, the infuriating curve of his mouth.
Rees loped down the stairs beside him, nails clicking softly against the stone. Fieran’s brows lifted. “Did you commandeer my dog?”
“I don’t want him.”
Fieran looked genuinely hurt. Almost pouty, in a rare glimpse of boyishness. But he turned his back on me and kept going down the stairs.
“Did you come to my village to fight monsters or to find me?” I sounded breathless from trying to keep up.
“Finding you was an unexpected joy. I came to fight monsters. To protect you.” His words were so quick, so sure, and so untrustworthy.
“And yet you didn’t.” My voice was crisp.
He raked his hand through his hair as he jogged down the stairs ahead of me. He paused on each landing to wait for me to catch up, but he didn’t look back when he said, “You’ll find one day that I have.”
Irritated, I jogged down the stairs, cutting him off. He paused—though the amusement he projected felt more cutting than any sarcastic jab—and let me take the lead. Rees shot ahead of him, too, slinking down the stairs at my side.
When I stepped into the massive foyer, those tall walls felt as if they loomed over me, about to collapse. The space felt too large, too bright. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and turned to face him. “Why don’t you just tell me the truth?”
Why did the sunlight falling through the foyer have to line his powerful form with light, as if even the world was playing along with him that he was god? He wasn’t. He was just as much one of the monsters as the things he slayed.
“Why don’t you just tell me what you’re doing with Ander? Why Kiegan is skulking around you?” His gaze was sharp and knowing. Rees slipped between us, tail low, as if he sensed a gathering storm. “Why would I tell you any of my secrets when neither of us trust the other?”
“You don’t deserve my trust. You took my sister’s magic, you have my brother as hostage—”
“I’m saving your brother’s life!”
“Those two things are not mutually exclusive!” I spat back. “What happens if I join Ander’s clan?”
“Besides your lifelong misery and regret? I would still heal your brother. I gave my word.”
“I believed you’d protect my sister too.”
“I made a hard decision.” His jaw was tense, but he projected calm. “I couldn’t let my friend die. I couldn’t let your village be destroyed by monsters. I’m sorry for Lidi, but I made the right choice.”
The way he said it—so rational, so composed—infuriated me more than if he’d shouted. He was sorry, but not wrong. Sorry, but not repentant.
I needed to get out of this open space, out from under the curious eyes of the shifters around us.
“I can’t do this in here.”
“We could spar in the dome,” he said easily, as if we were discussing the weather. “It’s usually empty this time of day. And I don’t want the others to see you fight before the Trials.”
“I doubt they’ll need to see me fight to guess how little chance I have,” I said.
He didn’t argue. Just smiled faintly, that maddeningly confident curve of his lips. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’d rather keep your particular kind of chaos as a surprise.”
“Maybe I’ll surprise you one day,” I snapped, because he seemed so sure of everything about me.
As we moved into the life dome, the light changed. The air smelled faintly of stone and something floral. The ceiling above us glowed with the soft, shifting light of the stars. Rees settled down at the door to the dome, as if he were guarding it.
“How do I escape when someone has me pinned?” I demanded as I faced Fieran.
He was pushing his sleeves up his corded forearms. There were more tattoos on his arms that I was not remotely interested in cataloguing. “Is that where you want to start?”
Did I want to begin with his body pinning me down? Not at all. Just the thought made the anger churning through my body heat into slightly different tension.
“Yes.”
He nodded and then, without hesitation, he grabbed my waist. His strong hands held me up for a split second as his heel pressed mine, sweeping my legs. He dropped me on the ground effortlessly. My shoulder blades and legs hit at the same time so I was shocked, breathless, but not hurt.
Then he was on top of me, his knees on either side of my thighs, his body folding over mine to pin me.
“Once you go to the ground, you want to avoid being pinned.” He held his weight off me so that he didn’t hurt me, but when I tried to test my way out, there was no escaping his muscular, corded body.
His hips pressed mine; his solid arm was a careful bar across my chest, just above my breasts; his other arm held him lifted slightly off me. His breath smelled like cinnamon and cloves.
I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see his stupidly handsome face. Instead, I focused on his words. “If I am pinned? It seems pretty likely I’ll fold after a punch or two and will be too stunned to avoid getting pinned.”
“Practice will help. You’ll recover faster from the shock. Muscle memory will get you moving before your mind catches up.”
I tried to believe him.
His lips hovered so near over mine. “What could you do from here if you wanted to hurt me?”
That hypothetical if was like a crumbling dam holding back the truth of how much I did want to hurt him.
I opened my eyes and looked around. There wasn’t much around us. If I could get a handful of dust to throw into his eyes or something else to distract him…
As if he knew just what I was thinking, he pinned my wrist under his bracing hand, his fingers wrapping over my skin. His touch felt hot and branding. His face was so close to mine, and his scent was overwhelming me.
“I’d need to distract you before I had a chance,” I whispered, my words barely audible.
He ducked his head slightly, turning his ear toward me. “What was that?”
I bit his earlobe.
Hard enough to draw blood, which was suddenly coppery-slick over my lips.
He let out a stunned gasp but didn’t pull away. He was too clever. Instead, he pressed the side of his head into mine, pressing painfully against my nose.
The two of us were in a battle of wills for a split second and then released each other at the same time. I scrambled to my feet as he sat back, pressing one hand to his bleeding ear.
“Savage,” he said, though he seemed pleased. “What if you have an opponent who isn’t as easily distracted by you?”
His deep, resonant voice seemed to rumble through me.
“I’ll need to find another weakness,” I said, then realized that while I hadn’t wanted to be watched in the arena, I should spend time in there, watching the other unclaimed recruits. I could find their weakness.
Too late, I realized I’d implied that he had a weakness. His interest in me.
But how long could that last? The inhumanly beautiful Fae pining away over my round mortal face or short, curvy body. My appeal to him must be novelty.
“You need to carry a weapon to give you a fighting chance, little dragon.”
I leveled him with a look. “Don’t call me little. It’s fucking weird.”