“Hello,little Caderyn.”
Motherfucker. Today is not my day.
“What do you want, Makon?” I ask in clear exasperation.
He doesn’t take the hint and proceeds to hold my wrist. “What’s the rush? Didn’t anyone ever tell you running indoors is ill-advised?” His large frame blocks any escape, and he’s clearly not in a hurry to release my wrist.
I glance down at his hand before bringing my attention swiftly back to him.
A sharp glint appears in his eyes. “It’s starting to make sense. I’ll admit I didn’t get it at first, but I’m starting to understand,” he says in a dark undertone.
I roll my eyes. I have no idea what he’s talking about, nor do I care. “Awesome. Now let go of me,” I order.
He shrugs. “I don’t think I will.”
“Makon, I really don’t have time for this today.”
“Make time.”
This man is insufferable.
I mentally pray for patience and physically yank my wrist in a downward motion.
His lips pull into a grin, full of mirth and malice as his grip tightens.
“What do you want?” I grunt, flicking my eyes to his darker ones.
He’s dressed head to toe in black fighting leathers, with a dagger at his hip and a long sword at his back. He looks like a warrior god seeking vengeance. And death. Somehow, I landed in his grasp instead.
He lifts a shoulder. “Everyone’s in a bad mood today. Tell me, why is that, little Caderyn?”
“Stop calling me that. And how would I know?” I hiss.
“I think you’re the only one who would know,” he answers cryptically.
“Well, I don’t. So kindly fuck off and let go.”
A soft chuckle slips past his lips. “Your presence is requested in the training field.”
“What? Why? I don’t have practice today.”
“You do now.” A corner of his mouth lifts into a vicious smirk.
“You—”
“Careful, you don’t want to hurt my feelings now, do you?” he asks, a hand over his heart in mock hurt. He keeps a hold of my wrist as he turns, clearly not trusting me to get to our destination on my own.
The moment his back is turned, I stick out my tongue. “Jackass,” I mutter.
“I heard that.”
I’m pulled through the barbican, past the courtyard, down the stone steps, and onto the training field. All against my will, I might add. The moment our feet cross the threshold to the field, he drops my wrist as if he never wanted to hold it in the first place. I massage the red mark from his manhandling and step in front of him to tell him exactly where he can go.
His eyes dart over my head, directly behind me.
I turn to follow his gaze, and a borderline hysterical laugh breaks free. Unbelievable. Just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse. Not one, not two, but four Noctryns in full battle gear stand at attention. Each face is obscured by a darkened helmet, staring straight at us. I’ve got four bodies of muscle in front of me and a wall of muscle behind me.
Not going to lie, my chances aren’t looking too good right now.
