It’s a slow, sludgy beat I find myself timing my breaths to match ...
Thud-ud.
Thud-ud.
Thud-ud.
A wintry perusal scores across my face, luring me to seek the source.
My hand drops.
In those stony eyes I see more than just the hard man who stalks these halls and rules with a rigid regard.
I see a predator. I see my own morose oblivion.
He strikes.
If I thought my movements were quick, I was kidding myself. He’slightning—sharp and sporadic.
Impulsive.
There is no rhythm to his crippling lines. They’re all power and destruction, meant to maim and disable andkill.
I swerve the advancing storm of his body, dodging blow after blow, retreating from wild, reflective eyes I don’t recognize. Steered further and further from my sword lying discarded on the ground.
My back collides with stone, and he’sonme, his blade a cold line across my throat, our shared breath intoxicating in its own malignant way.
My chest rises and falls in erratic bursts, mind racing. But though he has me caged between him and the wall with a death strike at my throat, something inside me has my chin lifting ...
His upper lip curls back, exposing teeth I picture ripping into my neck.
My gaze snags on them and struggles to unstick, until he growls low, weakening my knees, threatening to leave me hanging on the line of his sword.
“That was—” my tongue darts out, tasting the icy air as I flounder. “You’re ...”
Something flashes in his eyes, reminding me of a thunderstorm rolling off the ocean.
The space between us shrinks. “I’m what, Orlaith?”
Dangerous.
There’s a cough, and my eyes chase the sound, though I can still feel the chilling brand of Rhordyn’s stare tacking me in place.
“What?” he snaps.
Baze, standing by the entry with his hands dug into his pockets, seems entirely unfazed by the fact that Rhordyn has me pinned against the wall with a killing blow at my throat. In truth, he looks far more amused with the glare I’m practically flaying him with.
Not the response I’m looking for.
Rhordyn’s been orchestrating my training for the past five years, and Baze led me to believe it was our little secret. The bastard.
He doesn’t even have the decency to look sorry about it.
“You wanted to be notified when the High Mistress crossed the border,” Baze states, chocolate eyes detangling from my threatening stare.
Rhordyn releases an almost indiscernible sigh.
He pulls back, tossing Baze the sword while looking me up and down. “You finish up withthis,” he says, jerking his chin at me before retrieving his shredded top off the ground.
