16. Just a Kiss
SIXTEEN
just a kiss
Aelix
“I think you should fuck her.”
The warm wind dipping down on us from the open rooftop doesn’t cool my temper. My narrowed gaze slices through Clawd and his shitty words as I push him harder into place with the weight of my forearm against his meaty windpipe. His breath cuts away. With kicking boots and a bit of pathetic squirming, he tries to flip me on the black mat, but he doesn’t have the strength.
Not when we’ve been doing this since one and the sunset is just beginning to kiss the horizon. It burns into my eyes, threatening to blind me from my task at hand, but even through the sweat and bruises, I’ll never tire from hearing him struggle.
Especially not when he’s so damn deserving.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat yourself?” I ask, and my fist buries into his ribs hard before doing it again and again and again.
“Enough, Deces. Save your anger for the Raiders!” Professor Dollins chastises me even as he nods an approving smile my way and keeps walking with his hands pulled casually behind his back. His square posture carries on through the tangled men fighting around him, and he offers feedback to each one.
I roll off of Clawd and stare up at the faded sky that’s stained pink with the rays of the setting sun. The rooftop of the west wing of this academy is the only place that feels a little bit like we’re free. Like we’re not products of a school that doesn’t care if we live or die. Among the grunts and growls of the men around me, I can hear the ocean if I close my eyes hard enough.
I can taste the salty air. I can almost—almost believe I’m home again. Like I never left our village to begin with.
“I’m just saying, she’s your mate. She should be the key to earning your wings. You still haven’t shifted. So you need to—”
My arm swings and lands hard across the slick flesh of his abdomen. A wet cough shakes through him. He’s silenced before he can spew anymore of his garbage into the air.
I hope he dies first. It’s a twisted thought to wish upon my sister’s mate, but she deserves more than this meat sack. And we’ll be going out against the Raiders soon.
Some of us will die.
And flat out, I’m thriving on the idea that it’ll be Clawd. Praying to the Fates twice a day for such good fortune.
“Are you not attracted to her? Is that it? Hate beautiful women? Prefer men?”
My head turns stiffly, and I look at him from the corner of my gaze. A mixture of sweat and blood clouds his right eye socket. His chin is slick with the same substance.
And still, he somehow pulls together enough waning strength to continue being a garbage bin of a human being.
I don’t respond. I don’t owe him an explanation of my strange messed-up life.
Because if I’m being honest, she’s beautiful. Like the fucking Fates themselves cast their lights upon her angelic face, if that’s even possible. Far too pretty for Arcane. Not that he’ll for a single second think that he’s undeserving of her.
He isn’t like me. A lifetime of easy success has made him loud and proud. While a lifetime of confusion and constant criticism has made me . . . indifferent.
To everything and everyone.
It’s a strange thing to be offered the chance at Fated love and to know without a doubt it isn’t for me. I always pictured myself aging into life as a lonely old man. The shadow Arcane had cast over my life will be long gone when I’m gray and old. Despite our differences, it’s always made me a little bitter to know he’ll leave me here, abandoned someday. The only constant my life has ever known will die before I even have time to make sense of the world around me.
So no, it isn’t that the fumbling, pretty little blonde woman isn’t attractive.
It’s that I can’t afford to get attached to something I know won’t last.
“Good morning, Protectors!” a familiar voice calls out, halting men in their tracks, stopping blows midair with just the authority in his tone alone.
“Headmaster,” Dollins greets with a proper half bow. “To what do we owe the pleasure this morning?”
Behind him walks a certain fumbling, pretty little blonde woman, and I’m sitting up instantly to get a better look at the fear in her big green eyes. The thick lashes that line her doe eyes only frame the concern that shines there. The professor who teaches our history stands just behind Keira, her arms folded tightly across a navy blue button-down, creasing the small academy emblem from her tightly held posture.
“This is really improper, Headmaster,” Correll hisses, and the thin black frames of her glasses slip lower down her nose before she quickly pushes them back into place.
“I’d like to steal just a bit of your class’s time to get something rather important out of the way before our first trial begins tomorrow.” Headmaster Reign wears his tightly held smile in place for all to see. It’s his way of disarming his students. To make them think they haven’t signed their life away to an unwinnable battle. I can’t help but wonder if he thinks that manic look of amusement comforts us.
“Of course. How can I help?” Dollins’ dark eyes search the headmaster’s like he’s trying to get ahead of whatever chaos is about to ensue.
“I appreciate that. We won’t take up much of your time.” And then he’s turning that devilish attention on us. He scans the fighting quarters, and I don’t dare make a move, don’t dare do a single thing to earn his ire.
And yet, that beaming smile catches on me, and he nods.
“Everyone, line up!” he orders with a clap of his hands, clearly eager to begin today’s torment.
As I shove off from the mat, my attention pulls toward Arcane. Sweat clings to his inky arms and the lean shadows of his ribcage, but he mostly seems untouched from the evening’s sparring. His brow shades over the shifting skepticism in his eyes, a look that surely matches my own. He steps into line just behind Clawd, and without a word, I fall in place just behind him.
He doesn’t turn to look at me again. As we have for all our lives, we wait without question.
“Our academy has a problem,” the headmaster tells us as he leads Keira and the petite professor to the front of our class, just a dozen feet from the ledge of a rooftop. Wide eyes like the waves of the crashing ocean cling to me. And then to Arcane. The quietness that Keira veils herself with hides her fear, but I can smell it. All of us can. “We have a shifter who can’t shift,” the headmaster tells us flatly.
Guilt sinks through my stomach. A disgusting snorting laugh chuckles through Clawd, but for the most part, the audience is silent.
“Miss Haunting may be his Fated, but that connection can’t seem to unlock the creature that’s been repressed within her mate. I’ve been told this morning that not even the journals are working. So I’d like to force it out or get to the truth once and for all.”
She’s been using the journal? Would I have known? I should have heard her words, right? I should have felt them. I should feel her presence everytime she so much as looks my way.
But I don’t.
I bite the inside of my cheek hard and look away.
“I beg you to let me find another way,” the professor at his side reaches for the headmaster’s arm, but she never dares to touch him.
“Professor Correll has been adamant that intimacy is the key to unlocking a blocked connection like this. The academy encourages mates to share a room, and yet, that hasn’t helped either. Today, Professor Correll told me even the smallest gestures of kind intimacy could be the key. A kiss, a simple kiss, can set off a shifter’s mark. I’d like to know if Miss Haunting has more than one Fated among us in our prestigious academy. I’d like her to be able to utilize her gift as a Fated mate. Even if it’s not with whom she expected.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
The wind pulls at his finely combed silver locks, but his suit is perfectly pressed as he stands in all black all the way down to the shine of his shoes. He’s never seen battle a day in his life.
And yet, he leads us. Through one messed-up task to the next.
And here we fucking are with today’s messed-up performance he’s demanded of his audience.
“First in line, please step forward,” the headmaster commands.
A first-year shifter, Brelen, walks toward his headmaster. He’s shirtless, and all I can see is the stiff span of his back and a head of damp blonde hair that lightly touches his neck.
I’m locked in on his every move. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
“Please, very respectfully, kiss Miss Haunting.”
“That’s enough!” Professor Correll grinds out, but with a casual wave of his hand, the headmaster silences the woman. He holds his small hand up, letting it linger like a threat for several seconds before nodding to the student in front of him.
Ocean eyes swallow me up when she looks at me like she’s drowning right in front of us all. My jaw clenches hard, and I have to force myself not to move a muscle.
Brelen also looks back at me for a small, conflicted moment before stiffly taking a step forward.
Why do I have the sudden urge to kill him?
I blink away the impulsive thought and keep my feet glued to the ground where I stand.
With shifting feet, he pauses before slowly taking her hand in his. Keira’s gaze shifts, and I know she’s pleading with him now. A breath like a growl shakes out of Arcane, and I’d hate to see my brother murder every member of the Death Riders before we ever make it to the battlefield.
Brelen takes Keira’s hand. He’s gentle and slow about it. He’s a smart, smart man. I hope he lives.
Carefully, he brings her hand up as he bows, and then, with more respect than I’ve ever seen from these animals, he kisses the back of her hand.
A sigh shakes out of her, and she smiles at him, an unsteady smile that wobbles at the corners, but she keeps it in place.
He bows once more and then walks away rather quickly to the side. I see him look up, but this time, it isn’t me he’s looking at for approval. It’s Arcane.
Arcane keeps his head high and his attention straight ahead, never once looking away from the next man in line who’s stepping forward. Just like the one before, the guy’s smart enough to lift her fingers ever so lightly, press a chaste kiss to the back of her hand, and then he shuffle-fucks right out of the way.
Who knew we Death Riders had so much brains as well as brawn?
There are only two men ahead of Arcane, and in a sick twisting way, I just want him to take his turn already. Maybe it’s masochistic of me, but my mind keeps playing out on this beautiful pink-sky evening where my brother dips my Fated and kisses her madly. Get it over with. Confirm what I already know. Ride off into the sunset already. I honestly just . . . I need to know.
My throat tightens when there’s just Clawd and then Arcane left in line. It’s painful when I swallow and try not to think about the hard pounding of my heart as the last man steps to the side and makes room for Clawd.
Just one left.
And then I’ll know.
It’ll all be over. I can go back to just being a forgotten healer among great warriors. I can stop pretending to be normal when I’ve never fucking known how to do that in all my life.
Clawd lifts her small hand in his, and from this angle, I can’t even see her where she stands shadowed in front of him. His head turns, and it’s a strange few seconds where he looks at me from over his shoulder. It isn’t the same as the others who have done the quick kiss of her hand. He’s smiling. It’s animalistic. It’s cruel. It’s fucking stupid is what it is.
Then he drags her forward with a hard pull of her wrist. His free hand grips the back of her neck, and then . . . he slams his lips to hers.
“That is enough!” Correll roars, and she’s shoving at him. She plants her hands so hard against his chest, I’m certain she’s about to swing on him. “Never touch her again, do you understand me?” she screams.
“Miss Correll, please quiet down,” Headmaster Reign says calmly, and it isn’t lost on me that he has removed her title in this instance.
I, too, am on edge, and it only just now occurs to me that I’m gripping Arcane’s shoulder and arm. The vibration of rage within the very bones of his body radiates through me from the small contact of my hand against him. My attention immediately searched her out, and she’s shaking her head at me, begging me not to make this harder than it already is.
Because it’s not going to stop, and we both know it. Not until Reign has the answer he’s looking for.
“I appreciate your efforts, Clawd. Please step aside. Arcane, you’re next.” Reign doesn’t even look at the student who just assaulted the girl he brought into this. He’s waiting for compliance. And he stares Arcane down until he gets it.
Numbly, my fingers release their painful grip from Arcane’s flesh, and he slips away, prowling forward with steely tension in his spine. The hard muscles of his arms are strung tight, and I’m highly aware of how strongly his fingers are digging into his palms.
Reign pretends not to notice and clings to that curious amusement alighting his eyes.
Arcane stops just inches from Keira, and I faintly hear him whisper something to her, but I can’t make out the words as she nods to him. I don’t want to hear them. I do believe he’s her Fated mate. Doesn’t mean I want a front row seat to their blossoming fucking romance though either.
I nearly look away when he tilts her chin up with a caress of his fingers against her flawless skin. I can’t seem to make myself do it though. I can’t look away. It’s like a carriage accident crashing right before my eyes. And I stare on, unblinking, to witness every second of it. Even as her thick lashes flutter closed and he leans in with a near brush of his lips faintly against her temple before ripping my heart fully out of my chest. He leans over her with a claiming stance. He holds her head in his hands, and it’s all so torturously slow, I fucking hate myself right now for how poorly my imagination failed me when I envisioned this moment. I wasn’t even fucking close. It’s worse. So much worse. It’s the shuddering breath in her lungs that gets me. It’s the way her palms are resting on his bare cheek. It’s the angle that she tilts her head, waiting for a taste of his lips against hers.
But it never comes.
Because at the very last second, I hear him whisper sweetly to her once more, and I do hear him this time as plain as day.
“ He’ll never touch you again. I promise.”
With a swift turn of his boots, he’s rearing back. His fists come down hard, and the cry that rips from Clawd’s mouth isn’t anything like I’ve heard all day. Arcane’s on him in under a second. My twin’s straddling the bastard and lecturing him in between pummeling blows.
“You think you can touch women without their permission? You think you can take my sister’s loyalty for granted? You think you have the right to hurt them both? You think I wouldn’t fucking correct you?”
Reign is the only one coming to the bloody man’s aid though. His frail hands pull at Arcane’s shoulders, but his palms slip from him, and he falls backward. Keira’s hand covers her mouth. At first, I think it’s a cry of fear that she’s hiding. But it’s not. It’s a smile.
At her side, Correll watches on with stunned attention. She doesn’t intervene.
None of us do.