Page 78 of Glutton for Punishment

He studies me for a moment, gaze sharp but not unkind. “Rough night?”

“Just training,” I say.

One corner of his mouth lifts. “Is that what we’re calling illegal fights these days?”

I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants as my heart rate soars, but I keep my mouth shut.

He leans back, resting his forearms on the arms of his chair. “I’ve heard good things about your time at the academy.”

My stomach tightens. “I’m doing my best, sir. I hope I am making Wrath proud.”

“So I’ve heard.” His eyes flick over me again, taking in the blood and the bruises. “Ambitious. Driven. I think you’re doing just fine.”

I keep my gaze on the floor. “Thank you, sir.”

“And loyal, I’ve heard,” he adds. “That’s a rare trait.”

I try to hide my panic. What could the Councilor of Wrath possibly want from me? He lets the silence stretch as my anxiety compounds, threatening to break through my skin.

“Tell me,” Councilor Drow continues, tone easy, “how is the academy these days?”

I answer, explaining general things like the training and structure.

He listens. Nods occasionally.

“And Arwen Davies?”

Ice floods my veins as every instinct screams danger.

“She’s… she’s not at the academy anymore,” I intone.

“I’m aware, being part of the Council and all. I was at her trial.”

“What was your relationship with her?” He continues.

“I guess you could consider us friends,” I say. He already seems to know everything about me. So there’s no point in lying.

“Just friends?”

My cheeks heat. “Yes, sir.”

He watches me for another minute, then nods once like he’s come to some sort of conclusion.

“I’ll be plain, Brixton,” he says, tone shifting just enough to make my stomach drop. “I know about the dire situation with your family. Your concerns.”

My pulse spikes.

“I know your sisters struggle at school,” he continues. “About your mother’s potential deployment. Your sisters don’t seem too interested in their combat training courses. Some might say they have an aversion to violence.”

My nails cut into my palms again. Why is he watching my family?

“I know they may be at risk should they end up in the housing system,” he says. “And that you’re doing everything you can to prevent that.”

Dylan’s empty bunk flashes behind my eyes as my throat goes dry. “Yes, sir.”

“I admire that,” he says. “We do our best to keep the housing system safe for children, but with a lack of bodies and resources… things happen. It’s a shame.”

I look down as I try to keep my rage in check. Nothing good will come of me putting my fist through the Councilor’s face. Not for me. Not for my family.