Page 33 of First Offense


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I was tired of being helpless. I was a fuckingroyal,dammit.

“Release me,” I demanded, my voice reminiscent of my mother’s regal tones. “I won’t be manhandled by you or anyone else.”

He chuckled. “Yeah?” His grip tightened. “Or what?”

“Or there will be consequences,” I replied, forcing a confident note into my voice despite my waning resolve. He had at least a foot on me, and his wing mass was nearly twice mine. Not a fair fight. But I could best him if I went for the element of surprise. Maybe.

His eyebrows shot up as he glanced back at his friends. “Oh, consequences? Well, what would that entail, baby? A spanking?” His other hand groped at my shorts, pissing me off.

Slamming my heel on his foot, he let out a bellow as I twisted and reached out for the door.

Just when I brushed my fingers over the knob, he yanked my head back by my hair, making me cry out.

“You shouldn’t have done that, bitch.” He yanked again, exposing my throat.

The “recently imprisoned for no fucking reason” Layla would have been pissing her pants right about now, but Auric’s commentary had flipped a switch somewhere inside of me, igniting the royal blood in my veins that would not tolerate this sort of disrespect.

I. Am. Not. Weak.

I jerked my elbow up beneath his, knocking his arm away. He took a handful of fuchsia hair with him, but his grip slipped enough so that I could right myself.

I took the opportunity and turned, jabbing his nose with a closed fist like my trainer had once taught me. A spurt of blood rewarded my efforts, and his hands predictably went to his face, leaving another vulnerable part of him open.

A glance at his friends said they weren’t going to intervene, yet. They jabbed each other and laughed, amused while a princess kicked their friend’s ass.

Well then, they were going to love this.

I crouched and thrust one knee forward, going straight for his tiny little balls that probably didn’t even exist.

He buckled forward, unable to do anything but double over in pain as I tucked my ankle behind his, sending him crashing in a tangle of musty black wings.

His friends winced with sympathetic groans, and finally one decided to come to the poor bastard’s rescue.

“You’ve had your fun,” he said, his lips twisting into a grin. “Now it’s time for us to have ours.” He shot out a hand and gripped my hip, pulling me around.

I resisted, sotiredof being grabbed. My arms. My hands. My waist. Grabbing me everywhere like they had some sort of right to touch me, to invade the personal space of a royal.

Reaching behind me, I circled my fingers around the jagged joints of his wrist. I rotated with my whole body, using my momentum to yank his arm behind his back.

Just the right amount of pressure and…

Pop.

He bellowed.

I grinned.

Auric had taught me that move when I was a kid. I’d never used it on a real person before, but my muscles remembered the movements he’d had me do over and over again.

The last Noir moved to tackle me to the ground but hesitated as an emotion I didn’t recognize flashed in his dark eyes.

Oh, yes, I knew that expression.

Respect.

Finally.

He cursed me out, called me a bitch, but gathered up his groaning buddies and crashed through the cafeteria doors, leaving me alone.