Page 61 of A Whisper of Cinders

The other students are polite and say hi, some might ask me how I’m doing. It’s small talk, but never a deep conversation or with the intention to really get to know me. I am still fairly new, so it makes sense. And I don’t mind that much, I am grateful for Aramis and Siri.

I’ve reached the dojo, ten minutes earlier than I need to be and start warming up.

“Come.”

I nearly jump out of my skin at Conláed’s voice ripping through the peace and quiet, breaking my concentration. I’ve had enough of him treating me this way. “You know, I’m not your dog, asshole.” Whoa. Did I really just say that? I’m a second away from taking back my words.

He smirks. Smirks. “So she does have claws.”

I narrow my eyes. Okay, not the reaction I was expecting. “If you want me to come, you should ask nicely.”

Never thought in a million years I would give instructions to a handsome man. I stifle a giggle, I kind of like it.

His hand goes to his mouth, thumb whipping under his bottom lip as if he’s trying to hide away his laugh.

Of course, he thinks this is funny.

“Would you please come over, your majesty?”

You got to be kidding me.

I’m not dealing with this, I’ve had enough. This has been going on for the whole week and it is what I’m used to, but my life here feels different and I won’t let him ruin it.

I put my shoes back on and walk towards him, only to pass him by and head for the exit.

A calloused hand around my wrist stops me, the familiar sting of energy flowing through me. “I’m just kidding, feather. Please stay.”

I yank my wrist free, heart pounding like it might tear through my chest. “It isn’t funny, Conláed, not at all. You know, for five years I’ve dealt with dickheads like you, pointing nasty fingers and making fun of me, for the way I look or for no reason whatsoever. For who I am as a person. I’ve only been here for two weeks, but everyone is so kind, no one’s rude or mean or makes jokes about how I look burned and wrong.” I close the distance between us and jab my finger into his chest a couple of times. “I’m done with men like you, who think so highly of themselves and stand above everyone else. I’m sorry you had to teach someone as disgusting as me. I will train on my own until Master Sturmsong is back. I won’t bother you anymore. Goodbye.”

I will probably regret this immensely later, but right now it feels so good and I honestly can’t be bothered by it. The way his expression shifted from smug confidence to all seriousness. Wonderful, really.

I make it up the stairs and nearly reach the top, when I bump into a firm, muscled chest. Hands land on my waist to steady me, not a moment too late since the proximity of a male body nearly makes me fall down the stairs. And that would be very unfortunate.

My eyes move upward — damn he is tall — until they meet his intense golden gaze. Anger fuels me, but with his perfectly tousled dark brown curls and strong jaw another feeling runs through me. One that overrules the anger. And that scent of him. So fucking devine.

But that’s not what makes my anger evaporate. It’s the way he's looking at me right now. Gone is the arrogant male I’m used to, he actually looks…remorseful. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to hurt or insult you. That was never my intention. It’s just, you're so…” The right corner of his mouth tips up. “Different.”

I stiffen, my anger instantly back, yet I am very aware of the hands that still rest on my waist. “Gee, Conláed, I wasn’t aware of that, but thank you for reminding me. Now, can you please let me go, I have other places to be where people don’t judge me.”

Trying to get free of those hands is like blowing against a brick wall and hoping it will fall down. Completely useless. He tightens his hands even more. But not in a painful way.

“That came out wrong. What I mean is, you’re like a breath of fresh air when you’ve been inhaling the musty stench of mold for ages. You set something on fire inside of me.”

My heart skips a bit and something coils inside of my stomach. What did he just say? His eyes seem to burn with intensity. “Did you hit your head?”

He looks for a moment longer, scanning my face as if he’s searching something. Eventually, he closes his eyes and he smirks. He lets go of my waist and steps to the side. “I didn’t, but will you come back down with me? I thought we could do some more interactive training today.”

The stubborn part of me really wants to say no. But if he can get over himself, so can I. And the thought of interactive training lights a fire within me as well. But I won’t say that out loud.

Without a word, I turn around and walk down the stairs. I look back over my shoulder, noticing he’s still standing there like a statue. “Are you coming, or what?”

I don’t wait to see if he follows, but take the last steps down and take off my shoes again. No other students have entered yet, so we have the dojo all to ourselves.

He’s standing in the centre of the mat, patiently waiting for me to come closer. I do, curious to see what he’s got in mind.

“Punch me.”

Uh, not what I was expecting. “I’m sorry, what?”