Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Liam steps into formation behind me, taking Penley’s place.
“I. Do. Not. Need. A. Bodyguard,” I repeat, a little louder this time. I could give two fucks who hears me.
One of the first-years behind me gasps, mortified by my audacity, no doubt.
Imogen snorts. “Good luck with that approach.”
Xaden walks past Dain and stands directly in front of me, leaning into my space. “You do, though, as we both learned last night. And I can’t be everywhere you are. But Liam here”—he points back to the blond Tyr—“he’s a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I hope you get used to him, Sorrengail.”
“You’re overstepping.” My nails bite into my palms.
“You haven’t begun to see overstepping,” he warns, his voice dropping low, sending a shiver down my spine. “Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we’ve already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.”
Heat flushes up my neck and stains my cheeks. “He is not sleeping in my room.”
“Of course not.” He freaking smirks, and my traitorous stomach dips. “I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.” He turns on his heel and walks away, headed back to his place at the front of our formation.
“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes, keeping his eyes forward.
Fitzgibbons finishes his announcements and steps to the back of the dais, which would usually signal the end of formation, but Commandant Panchek takes the podium. He makes it a habit to avoid morning formation, which means something is up.
“What’s going on with Panchek?” Rhiannon asks at my side.
“Not sure.” I take a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my ribs.
“It has to be something big if he’s fumbling with a Codex up there,” Rhiannon says.
“Quiet,” Dain orders, glancing back over his shoulder at us for the first time this morning. He does a double-take, his eyes flaring wide as he catches sight of my neck. “Vi?”
He hasn’t spoken to me since our fight yesterday. Gods, how has it been less than twenty-four hours when I feel like a completely different person?
“I’m fine,” I assure him, but he’s still staring at my throat, locked in shock. “Squad Leader Aetos, people are staring.” We hold way more than our share of the attention as Commandant Panchek begins to speak at the podium, telling us that there’s another matter to handle this morning, but Dain won’t look away. “Dain!”
He blinks, jerking his gaze to mine, and the apology in those soft brown eyes clogs my throat. “Is that what Riorson meant by last night?”
I nod.
“I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because you wouldn’t believe me, even if I did.
“I’m fine,” I repeat, nodding toward the dais. “Later.”
He turns, but the motion is reluctant.
“It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occurred,” Panchek calls out over the courtyard.
“As you know, breaches of our most sacred laws are not to be tolerated,” Panchek continues. “This matter will be addressed here and now. Will the accuser please step forward.”
“Someone’s in trouble,” Rhiannon whispers. “Think Ridoc finally got caught in Tyvon Varen’s bed?”
“That’s hardly against the Codex,” Ridoc murmurs from behind us.
“He’s the executive officer for Second Wing.” I send a pointed look over my shoulder.
“And?” Ridoc shrugs, grinning without a touch of remorse. “Fraternizing with command is frowned upon, not unlawful.”
I sigh, facing forward. “I miss sex.” I really do, and it’s not just the physical gratification, either. There’s a sense of connection in those moments that I crave, a momentary banishment of loneliness.
The first is something I’m sure Xaden would be more than capable of providing, if he ever thought of me that way, but the second? He’s the last person I should be craving, but lust and logic never seem to go hand in hand.
“If you’re looking for a little fun, I’m happy to oblige—” Ridoc starts, shoving his floppy brown hair off his forehead with a wink.
“I miss good sex,” I counter, smothering a smile as someone walks from the front of formation toward the dais, indistinguishable through the rows of the squads ahead of us. “Besides, apparently you’re spoken for.” Have to admit, it feels good to tease a friend about something so trivial. It’s a tiny slice of normalcy in an otherwise macabre environment.
“We’re not exclusive,” Ridoc counters. “It’s like Rhiannon and what’s-her-name…”
“Tara,” Rhiannon offers.
“Will you all shut the hell up?” Dain barks in his superior-officer voice.
Our mouths snap shut.
Mine drops open again when I realize it’s Xaden climbing the steps to the dais. My stomach lurches as I suck in a tight breath. “This is about me,” I whisper.
Dain glances back at me, confusion furrowing his brow before whipping his attention toward the dais, where Xaden now stands at the podium, somehow managing to fill the entire stage with his presence.