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“Too good for who?” Britta asked as she emerged from the stairwell. “Are we talking about Drexians we’d like to bang?”
“Drexian fuck, marry, kill,” Morgan said, deftly changing the subject away from me. “Who would you pick?”
Britta flipped her hair off her shoulder and tapped a finger on her chin. “Fuck Kann, marry Vorn, kill Vyk.”
“Who’s Vorn?” Morgan and I asked at the same time.
“Irons instructor. Hot, but not too hot, if you know what I mean. You can’t trust the ones who’re too hot. They’re only good for one thing.”
“Like Kann?” Morgan teased.
Britta lifted her brows. “Exactly. That Drexian has trouble written all over him.” She grinned like she would have loved a bit of trouble. “What about you two?”
Morgan jumped in before I was forced to answer. “Fuck Vyk, marry Tivek, and kill Torq.”
Britta laughed. “You’d fuck the security chief? He’s so scary.”
“That’s why he’d be so good.”
“No way.” Fiona walked up from the stairwell with Ariana by her side. “Vyk is all mine.”
“She loves silver foxes,” Ariana added.
Fiona made a face. “And I’d love to kill that one.”
“I’m willing to give him up, but I’d still kill Torq.” Morgan slid a quick smile to me.
“Why are we killing cadets?” Fiona asked, as she walked toward her door. “Or should I not ask?”
Britta glanced at us before answering. “Just a quick round of Drexian fuck, marry, kill.”
Fiona’s eyes sparkled as her door slid open. “That sounds like it would pair perfectly with Noovian whiskey. Anyone up for a glass?”
I normally would have hesitated, especially about drinking with an instructor, but today I didn’t care. “Sounds perfect. And for the record, I’d kill Torq, too.”
Ariana shook her head. “That Drexian had better watch his back.”
My thoughts exactly.
Chapter
Forty-Seven
Torq
Tivek’s gaze held me as he ushered me into the admiral’s office. Even though the Drexian was only the master’s adjunct, even though he had no status, even though he did not hold power over me, I withered under the judgment of his gaze.
My clan instinct kicked in. Always fight back instead of showing weakness. Always exert superiority. “Why have I been summoned here again?”
Disdain clung to my voice, but Tivek seemed unaffected by it. “That is for the admiral to convey.” His gaze snagged on my split lip. “Do you require the surgeon?”
I shook my head so roughly my ears rang. I’d taken one too many hits to the head to be moving so brusquely. “I am fine. I took a few falls on the circuit.”
Tivek cocked an eyebrow, and it was clear he knew I was lying. Rumor had it he’d been a cadet once, although he hadn’t finished, so he was aware that my injuries were not courtesy of the Blade circuit. He walked forward, placing a hand on the stone wall so that part of the wall slid back.
This was where my father and the admiral had emerged from when I’d been waiting to be interviewed. I stiffened at the thought that my father might be inside waiting for me like a Verethian spider waiting to strike at an unsuspecting insect.
“Admiral Zoran would like to speak with you in his private chambers.”
