Chapter 22 – Tallon
Twenty-Two
TALLON
The blade whistles past my ear close enough that I feel the displaced air, and I duck under Corvinus's follow-through with a grin that's probably going to get me decapitated. Worth it.
"You're getting slow, princeling," I taunt, spinning away from his next strike. "Too much time painting, not enough time training."
"Shut up and fight." His voice is clipped the way it always gets when he's trying to work through something with violence instead of words.
We've been at this for half an hour. Thirty minutes of him taking out whatever the fuck's been eating at him with increasingly aggressive sword work.
Not that I'm complaining. It's better that he channels his frustration into sparring than staying locked in his study, painting that omega's face over and over until the canvas looks like a shrine to his obsession.
The last week has been a mess.
I block his overhead strike, the impact jarring up my arms. He's not holding back. Good. Neither am I.
The gym is empty aside from us, which is how I prefer it. Just two packmates working out their shit the old-fashioned way.
With violence.
I feint left, then come in low on his right. He parries, but I catch the slight delay in his reaction. He's distracted. Still thinking about her, probably. The hunter omega who looked him in the eye and told him no for the first time in his life.
"Your footwork is shit today," I observe, dancing back from another strike. "Something on your mind?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
Liar. Everything concerns me when it comes to the pack. That's what happens when you soul-bond yourself to two of the most complicated bastards in existence. Their problems become my problems whether I want them to or not.
I press the attack, forcing him to focus. Blade work has always been more his thing than mine—I prefer teeth and claws when push comes to shove—but I've learned enough over the years to keep him honest. Our swords meet in a series of strikes that would probably look impressive to an audience.
"You changed her schedule," I say, because apparently my mouth has decided subtlety is for people with better self-preservation instincts. "Put her in Combat Theory with a quarter of the alphas on campus."
"Your point?" He doesn't even have the decency to look guilty, just blocks my strike and counters with one aimed at my ribs.
I twist away, the blade missing by inches. "My point is that's either brilliant or the stupidest thing you've ever done, and I'm not sure which."
"She needs to understand what she's dealing with." His strikes are coming faster now, harder. "Playing at being a helpless omega won't work if she can't even defend herself in a classroom setting."
"Pretty sure breaking your nose counts as defending herself."
That gets a laugh out of him, sharp and genuine. "It was well executed. I'll give her that."
"You liked it." I grin, pressing my advantage while he's distracted. "You actually liked that she headbutted you in front of twenty witnesses."
"She's interesting." He parries my strike with enough force to make my arms vibrate. "More interesting than every other omega at this university combined."
Yeah, that's what worries me.
I've seen Corvinus interested in things before. Art. Politics. Ancient magical theory. Women. When something catches his attention, he doesn't just study it. He becomes obsessed, diving so deep he forgets to eat, sleep, or even acknowledge that the rest of the world exists around him.
And now he's interested in a hunter omega who may or may not be here to kill him. That's what Locke thinks, at any rate.
This can't possibly end well.
The gym doors slam open with enough force to make both of us pause mid-strike. Locke stands in the entrance, and even from twenty feet away I can feel he's pissed. His energy is made for amplifying emotion, not hiding it, no matter how practiced he is at keeping it in check.
Oh fuck. Someone's in trouble.
"Professor," Corvinus says, lowering his blade with that infuriating calm he always manages when Locke's about to lose his shit. "We weren't expecting you."
"Clearly." Locke stalks into the gym. His magic is leaking, dark and dangerous, making the air taste like smoke. "Otherwise you might have remembered we had plans to discuss the security implications of your recent questionable decisions."
Corvinus and I exchange a look. Yeah, we're both in for it now.
"I assume you're referring to Billie Moreau's schedule adjustment?" Corvinus asks, all innocence.
"Adjustment. What a delightfully benign way to describe putting a hunter in a class filled with highly confidential information."
"She's an omega, not a hunter. Not anymore."
"She's both, you arrogant fool." Locke grabs a practice sword from the rack, the movement sharp and aggressive. "And you've given her access to defensive ward theory, combat applications, magical frequencies—everything she'd need to circumvent our security protocols."
"I've given her an education." Corvinus raises his sword again, recognizing the challenge. "Which she deserves if she's to become my bride."
"Your bride now?" I echo. Pet is one thing, but that's new.
Corvinus ignores me, of course.
"She deserves execution for infiltrating Fae territory under false pretenses!" Locke snarls.
Oh shit. This is going to get messy.
I step back, giving them room. When these two go at it, the smart move is to not be in the crossfire. I've got the scars to prove that lesson.
Their blades meet with a crack that echoes off the stone walls. Corvinus is good, trained since childhood in Seelie combat techniques. But Locke's been fighting since before the Fae even discovered Earth.
There's no contest, really. Just a prince who thinks his title means something and a professor who's been waiting for an excuse to remind him it doesn't.
"One class," Corvinus says, blocking Locke's strike with more effort than he'd like to admit. "I put her in one class."
"Liar." Locke presses the attack, forcing Corvinus back step by step. "I checked. You moved her into all your classes this morning. Every single one."
All our classes? Holy shit, Corvinus really is obsessed.
"So?" Corvinus's breathing is getting harder now, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "How else am I supposed to get close to her?"
"You're not!" Locke's sword moves so fast it's almost a blur, and I catch the shimmer of flame dancing along the blade. He's pissed enough to be using his magic this early on, which is not a great sign. "She's a security threat, not an omega for you to fucking court!"
"She's an omega who was abandoned by her family and thrown to our mercy." Corvinus blocks, but barely. "Treating her like a prisoner isn't going to earn her trust."
"And treating her like a prize you're trying to win will?" Locke forces him back another three steps. "She rejected you, Corvinus. Publicly. That should tell you everything you need to know about her intentions."
"It tells me she has pride." Corvinus's smile is sharp despite his obvious disadvantage. "I can respect that."
"You can't respect a knife between your ribs!" The fire along Locke's blade flares brighter. "Which is exactly what she's planning!"
"You don't know that. If she wanted to kill me, why would she turn down the chance at being my pet?"
"Perhaps she knows what an arrogant fool you are and thought it was the best route to manipulate you," he challenges.
"Fair point, Cor," I call, earning a filthy gesture and a murderous glare even though he's mid-combat.
Aw. Makes me feel special.
"I know hunters!" Locke's next strike sends Corvinus's sword flying across the gym.
Before the prince can recover, Locke has him pinned against the wall, blade pressed to his throat.
"I know they don't do anything without purpose.
I know they're trained from birth to see us as targets.
And I know that girl is here for blood, not books and a fucking collar! "
The room goes silent except for their heavy breathing. Corvinus doesn't struggle, doesn't try to escape. He meets Locke's dark gaze, and even though they're both not speaking, that doesn't mean the argument is over.
"You're not invincible," Locke says quietly, and there's genuine fear underneath the anger.
"Your title won't protect you if this hunter gets close enough.
Your guards won't save you if she catches you alone.
And your arrogance will be the death of all of us if you don't start taking this seriously. "
"I am taking it seriously." Corvinus's voice is steady despite the blade at his throat. "Just not in the way you want me to."
"Then explain it to me." Locke doesn't lower the sword. "Explain how giving a potential assassin access to restricted information, to your personal schedule, to you is anything other than suicidal stupidity."
"She won't trust me if I treat her like a prisoner."
"She's not here to trust you! She's here to kill you!"
"We don't know that."
"Yes, we do!" Locke finally steps back, lowering his blade. "Eight years ago. A hunter from the same clan as Billie broke into the royal palace and made an attempt on your life. Do you remember her name?"
Corvinus's brow furrows, clearly caught off guard by the shift in subject. That makes two of us.
"You never told me a hunter tried to kill you," I say, unable to help feeling slighted. I'm his familiar. He tells me everything. Things I absolutely do not want to hear included, but he didn't tell me that?"
"That's because it never happened, idiot," Corvinus snaps without taking his eyes off Locke. "There was no hunter."
"Precisely," Locke says through his teeth. "And yet, there is a record of your attempted murder sitting in the archives. One your half-brother stole my credentials to access just the other night."
Corvinus's eyes narrow. Caelyx is always a touchy subject. So is this omega hunter, apparently. "Caelyx was in the archives?"
"Shocking, I know," Locke says, his voice dripping with condescension. "And apparently, you're not the only one who's taken an interest in the hunter."
That does it. Corvinus's eyes get a shade colder. It doesn't last, but it's impossible to miss.
He's jealous. Jealous over a girl he barely knows. One who was probably sent here to kill him.
No, actually, that checks out. That's the Corvinus I know, the man my soul is contractually bound to.
Fuck me.
"Why?" he grits out. "What does Caelyx have to do with any of this?"
"I don't know," Locke says, his words drawn out. Those tendrils of smoke and chaos magic have retreated back beneath his shell of control, but they're still there. Always there, waiting to be unleashed. Hopefully on our enemies, but sometimes on his own triad.
An ancient ticking time bomb, a cursed shifter, and a prince whose dick has a death wish. Some "Golden Triad" we are.
"What we don't know," Locke continues, his voice dropping into a register even I find menacing after all these years, "is why you're so determined to court your own death."
He throws the blade and it twirls three times in the air before landing directly in its slot on the rack.
Then he turns and stalks toward the exit, pausing at the door.
"Mark my words, Corvinus. Your hubris will get us all killed.
And when it does, I'll make sure to tell your father exactly whose fault it was from the other side of the veil. "
The door slams behind him hard enough to crack the frame.
Silence falls.
Corvinus stays against the wall, staring at the space Locke recently occupied.
I can feel his emotions through the bond.
He would never admit it, but he hates when Locke's disappointed in him.
His father's disappointment is a guarantee, a badge of honor, even, but Locke's?
Pretty sure he'd rather be stabbed by an actual blade.
"Well," I say, because someone needs to break this awkward silence before it suffocates us both, "that went well."
He shoots me a murderous look. "Shut up, Tallon."
"Just saying." I move to retrieve his discarded sword, examining the blade for damage. None, of course. Locke knows better than to actually harm the prince, even when he's furious enough to spit fire. Even if one day, there's a chance he won't be able to help it. "He makes some valid points."
"Not you too."
"Hey, I'm just the comic relief in this pack." More like the only one who can talk him off the ledge he's always dancing on. I toss him his sword, and he catches it automatically. "But even I can see she's trouble."
I saw it in the woods, when I first spotted her. When I caught that impossible violet scent.
"She's an omega," he says flatly, but I can tell he doesn't believe his own implication that her designation makes her harmless. If he did, he wouldn't be interested.
"She's a hunter playing dress-up, and you know it." I lean against the wall, arms crossed. "Locke knows it, too. The question is, what are you planning to do about it?"
He's quiet for a long moment, turning the sword over in his hands. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft in a way that never means anything good. "I'm going to make her mine."
The certainty in his tone makes my stomach drop. "Even if she's here to kill you?"
"Especially if she's here to kill me." He smiles. "Because if she succeeds, at least it'll be interesting."
"You're insane. FYI, if your head rolls, I die too. Or did you forget that part of our bargain?" I demand, rushing to catch up with him.
"I didn't forget." He sheathes his sword, moving toward the exit. "I just don't care."
"Oh, touching!" I spit, following, because what else am I going to do?
Let him wander off alone when there's a trained killer on campus who might have access to pointy and enchanted objects now?
"I'm so fucking glad I'm soulbonded to the most selfish, narcissistic fucking fairy this side of the portal! "
Corvinus says nothing, but I can see his lips twitch in profile. Smug bastard.
This is going to end badly. I can feel it in my bones. Corvinus is playing a game he doesn't fully understand, and Billie Moreau is a weapon he's treating like a toy.
And the worst of all is that there's a part of me that's just as curious about her as he is.