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My arms were fatigued, exhaustion from the pushups setting in. I craned my head up to see how much further I had to go, only to find I hadn’t gotten over ten feet off the ground.
Talon went back to sharpening his sword, not in any way interested in what he had me doing.
My arms ached as I continued upwards, and my palms became slick. Unable to get a firm hold, I slipped—my hands burning as I held on until my feet touched the ground.
“Again,” Talon said without looking up at me.
My shoulders screamed at me to stop; I rolled them in circles, attempting to release some of the strain. “I don’t think I can,” I said, showing him my bright red palms.
He gave his sword a final polish before sheathing it. “I don’t think I asked. I won’t have you embarrass me in front of the entire court. We still have another forty-five minutes, so stop making excuses and go again.”
“Does it make you feel good pushing around a girl half your size?” I huffed. “I don’t see you doing this.”
Talon flashed his sharp canines. “I was the youngest guard in Faerway in almost a century. These basic tasks hardly scratch the surface of what my training entailed. Take your self-righteousness somewhere else and get back to work.”
I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, remembering our conversation from last night—my stupid promise to be nicer. I’d hardly been making an effort, but it was better than actively trying to rile him up.
His smile grew wider as if he knew how difficult it was for me to keep my words to myself.
The youngest guard in Faerway history.
It’d be impressive if he didn’t have magical fae abilities and wasn’t a raging prick.
“Aye, Warwick,” someone called out from the other side of the training room, interrupting our silent battle of wills. A golden-brown-skinned faerie stood at the entryway, his coarse hair in tight locks that reached his shoulders. He smiled widely in greeting.
“Try not to fall next time. It defeats the purpose of the exercise,” Talon called over his shoulder as he jogged over to the faerie and pulled him into a one-armed hug.
I stood there awkwardly, deciding to appear busy with some stretches so I could eavesdrop on their conversation unnoticed.
“You joining us for drinks tonight or what? It’s Roe’s night to pay,” the other faerie said.
“Yeah, where you guys going?”
“The White Oak. The woodland nymphs will be there, and I need you to wingman me—keep Roe from stealing every girl I try to take home.”
Talon clicked his tongue, unsure.
“C’mon man, have you seen her? I can’t compete with that. She does this shit on purpose.”
Talon laughed—an unusual, melodic sound that didn’t match his no-nonsense demeanor. He didn’t seem like one to go out and have fun or have friends, to be honest. I wasn’t sure what to make of him or why I found myself curious.
And I couldn’t pull myself away, eating up every bit of their conversation to the point I forgot what I was supposed to be doing, enamored by his fluid, open mannerisms. That wasn’t the same person training me. Asshole.
The faerie nudged Talon, flicking his chin in my direction.
“Why are you just standing there? I thought I told you to go again?” Talon demanded.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you volunteered to train me, not bark out demands. I didn’t realize I had to jump the second you told me to.”
The hand he had rested on the hilt of his dagger tightened around it, and he sucked his teeth. “We’re done here,” he growled, dismissing me, “get back to your chambers.”
“Make me.” I jumped on the rope.
But I wasn’t quick enough. Talon was on my tail in a flash; a lethal look played out on his sharp features that had me climbing as fast as I could.
“Get down here now.” He tried grabbing my foot, but I was just out of reach.
I scurried up a little higher, clinging to the rope for dear life.
