Page 23 of Godless Saints

He moved in until our chests brushed. Heat poured off him. I tilted my head back, refusing to retreat. Cillian’s jaw worked. His breath ghosted hot across my lips.

“Say that again,” he said, “and I’ll make sure the whole fucking academy knows who you really belong to.”

The foil dipped.

Fuck.

The door opened behind him. Noah burst in, laptop clutched under one arm, headphones dangling around his neck, eyes wide and frantic.

My spine straightened on instinct. He ran straight across the salle. Kaelan sauntered in right after him, grin sharp. “Don’t make me chase you, Birdie.”

Noah disappeared into the next hall. Kaelan followed at an easy pace, still laughing under his breath.

My mouth parted, pulse refusing to settle.

Should I go after them? He looked terrified.

Cillian’s hand closed around my jaw, forcing my eyes back to his. His body stayed close. “It’s academy nonsense,” he said. “Let it go.”

I twisted out of his grip, stepping back hard enough to create distance between us.

“Right.” My voice came out tight. “Where were we? Oh yeah. You leaving.”

“I was hoping you’d offer Korean lessons.”

I kept my eyes on the tip of the foil like it might give me something to focus on that wasn’t him. Nobody had ever learned Korean for me.

“If you’re waiting for me to say yes, don’t,” I said. I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. “And stop sending flowers to my room. I’m a guy. It’s awkward.”

His mouth twitched. “That’s your objection?”

“It’s one of many.”

He reached up and straightened my collar.

I swatted his hand away and lifted my mask. “I have practice.”

“Good,” he said, stepping back at last. “I’ll watch.”

“Fuck. You’re annoying.”

My fingers tightened around the mask. Why wouldn’t he just leave me alone?

The door opened on the other side of the salle.

“A fucking B-minus,” Sawyer said as he strode in. “From a man with more scars than office hours and the nerve to call that academic judgment. Can you believe it?”

I closed my eyes. Both of us turned toward the sound. Sawyer came in beside another Aster boy I vaguely recognized from comparative diplomacy, waving the crushed paper like a trophy.

“And do you know the worst part?” He flashed that wide, disarming smile and slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t even change it. The audacity.”

The Aster boy murmured something useless.

Sawyer ignored him, squeezing once. “I was charming. Positively irresistible, wasn’t I?”

“Terrifying,” the boy complained.

Sawyer laughed, still smiling. “Then I was threatening, just a little, for flavor.” His grin stayed in place, but his eyes went flat for half a breath.