Page 28 of Godless Saints

Declan was too pleased with himself to hear the warning. “What? Did I hurt your feelings? Or does he do that part for you too?”

My vision narrowed. Declan saying his name, any fucking joke about him, made something ugly uncoil low in my gut. Moon was mine to push. Mine to crack open. Mine to break until the pretty lies spilled out. No one else.

I took one step forward. The bag forgotten.

Declan stepped off the mat and came closer, still running his mouth. “Careful, Ashbourne. Keep looking at him like that and people might think you’re waiting for him to put you on your knees.”

My fist was already moving.

The hook landed clean. Declan’s head snapped sideways. Blood sprayed across the mat. The entire hall went dead quiet.

I wanted him to say Moon’s name again just so I could hit him harder. I wanted to break something for even daring to speak about Moon like that.

Declan stumbled, caught the top rope, and came back up with blood on his teeth and murder in his eyes. Now he wanted the fight. Good. He swung wild and sloppy. I slipped under it, caught his arm, and drove my elbow into his ribs once, twice, hard enough to fold him halfway. Declan came up swinging.

Coach Macrae caught his wrist mid-throw. Tall, grey-haired, built like he’d spent forty years putting bigger men on the floor. One hand. No effort. “Enough.”

Declan jerked against Macrae’s grip, blood already swelling on his split lip. “He hit me first.”

Macrae looked at the mess on Declan’s mouth, then over at me. “Good hit.”

Declan’s face twisted. Macrae’s smile vanished. “Don’t look so offended. You ate it clean.”

The room went still.

Macrae shoved Declan back. “If you’re Thorn, learn to block before you learn to bitch.”

Misha coughed.

“Shit.”

Macrae’s head snapped toward him. Misha lifted both hands fast. “Sir, I had—”

“Don’t sir me, Lovchy. I know exactly who you are.”

Misha blinked once and actually shut his mouth. Miracle.

Macrae turned back to the rest of us, voice flat. “Five Favor docked.”

The room exploded.

“Bullshit.”

“Five?”

“Opening week?”

Macrae didn’t raise his voice. That was worse. “Five docked because you gave Aster, Dahlia, and Vesper a free look at Thorn discipline falling apart.”

Silence slammed down.

Macrae looked at me. “Next time, make it sanctioned.” Then at Declan. “And next time, keep your guard up before you run your mouth.”

Declan wiped blood from his lip and said nothing. First smart thing he’d done all afternoon.

Macrae turned toward the ring. “You want blood, get in the ring. You want points, win the academy rounds. You cost Thorn Favor with this training-room shit again, I’ll put you against someone who knows how to finish.”

Nobody spoke after Macrae left.