My eyes close as it clicks into place.
I slowly open them and glare at him.
His full lips turn up into a sinful smirk. No one should be allowed to look that wicked while smirking.
“Rude,” I say in a level tone. “If I had wanted you to know my inner thoughts, I’d have spoken them out loud.”
I stand to my full height. I still barely reach his collarbone.
“If I cared about being rude, I’d have asked instead of dipping into your shallow thoughts,” he drawls, looking down his perfectly straight nose at me. “Turns out, I don’t care.”
The longer portion of his hair on top is no longer messy from his helmet but slicked back. The sides are closely shaved, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. I bet this is how he usually wears it.
Controlled. Restrained. No loose ends.
A low laugh comes from behind him.
I sidestep slightly, trying to look past the arrogant man blocking my view.
His brother leans against a birch tree with one leg propped up. The opposite of Kingston in so many ways. His long hair hangs loose over his shoulders with war braids woven randomly throughout. He’s casually using a lethal-looking dagger to peel an apple as he eavesdrops on our conversation.
“I see it runs in the family,” I say, the words dripping with condescension, nodding toward Makon. “Rudeness, in case it went over your head.”
Kingston’s smirk widens.
“A lot of things run in my family. Giving a shit isn’t one of them.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in some dark dungeon working with demons or something?” I ask, arching a delicate brow in his direction.
“Only on Tuesdays,” he deadpans.
“How unfortunate for me that today isn’t Tuesday,” I answer, tilting my head back further to stare up at him. “What exactly does a person have to do to get some seclusion around here?”
“How about you tell me, since you intruded on ours,” he replies in an icy tone.
“I don’t see your name on this courtyard,” I rebuke, crossing my arms over my chest and looking around.
He lifts one shoulder. “Now who’s being rude?”
I scowl up at him. “I didn’t see you out here, or I’d have turned right back around and headed inside. I’d like to say this has been a pleasure, but I’m rude, not a liar,” I state. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some place to be with fewer interruptions.”
His eyes flick up and down my body, cold with detachment, before slowly moving to the side. “It seems you do.” His unnerving stare doesn’t falter. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a Liminal at the academy.”
My shoulders tighten. “A Liminal?”
He tilts his head to the side slightly. “Someone who doesn’t really fit here nor there,” he answers cryptically, as his fingers trail along the hilt of the dagger hanging at his waist.
A short, sharp laugh comes from the side. “I have somewhere she’d fit,” Makon suggests, pointing his chin in my direction.
Ugh. Gross.
Kingston slowly turns his head toward his brother, and whatever Makon sees causes him to laugh under his breath darkly, before taking a big bite out of his apple.
He doesn’t say anything else, though.
“What are you talking about?” I ask Kingston, bringing the discussion back.
A smile, void of any warmth, ghosts over his lips. “Not a Veil but not quite a Noctryn either. Where does that leave you, Caderyn?” His eyes darken, gleaming with something I can’t quite put my finger on. “Or perhaps you’re looking at it all wrong. Maybe you’reboth.”
