Page 71 of Stormbreaker

“I doubt it,” Rook says. He waits, his hands stuffed back into his pockets.

Knox glances between us. “You can move along now,” he says, clearly trying to maintain some control over the situation. “We aren’t done here, and this doesn’t concern you.”

Rook shrugs and tips against the wall. “I don’t think so. I like standing here.”

Despite everything, he appears perfectly at ease, his shoulders loose and his expression blank.

I recall our conversation outside the med wing and him standing in the hall. I don’t know if it’s an intentional move to make me laugh, but suddenly, a snort blasts out of me.

Knox looks more confused than ever.

I swear that Rook is also clamping down on a smile, and something about that touches some secret place deep in my chest.

“What’s going on?” Knox demands, his gaze darting between us. “What’s funny?”

His expression turns suspicious. He’s probably jumping to several conclusions that aren’t even remotely true.

I roll my eyes. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing is going on. We are done here, though. I’m tired, and I’m going to lie down. Don’t follow me. Run to your dad. Run to mine. I don’t fucking care. But you don’t own me, and I don’t answer to you. At least not yet.”

And hopefully not ever.

Then I turn on my heel, leaving them both behind.

26

The fight with Knox follows me for the next few days. Everyone heard us yelling, and it’s humiliating. Maybe even more so with Rook playing witness to the entire exchange. I don’t understand why he came to my rescue, but I do appreciate it all the same.

I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, examining the mottled purple bruises Knox left on my arm, and then tug down the sleeve of my shirt to keep them hidden.

The last thing I need is a conversation about this with anyone. I know I shouldn’t just brush it aside, but it was a onetime thing, and . . . I sigh. Even I can hear how ridiculous I sound.

I don’t know what to do, though. Who would I even tell? My father certainly won’t care, and right now, he’s the only one who could save me from this future.

Then I make my way down to the cafeteria, where I’m headed off by my friends.

“Poet!” Silver says, wrapping her arms around me and drawing me into a hug. “We’ve barely heard from you lately.”

“How are you doing?” Hazel asks, her gaze sharp but kind.

“I’m fine,” I answer a bit warily. We haven’t talked because I haven’t been answering their texts, but they’ve been avoiding me in public.

“We heard what happened with Knox. And General Sol? I couldn’t believe it when she called you aside. What an honor,” Silver says, looping her arm through mine. “What did she want to talk about?”

My heart sinks. My instincts were correct—she’s fishing for gossip.

“Nothing important,” I answer, pulling my arm from hers. “Speaking of Knox, I’m late for lunch.”

“You two are doing well?” Hazel asks, blinking her dark eyes framed by long lashes.

“Sure,” I say. “See you later.”

I toss a wave over my shoulder and hurry away, not in the mood for interrogation or discussing how Knox and I are doing.

He’s been even more clingy since our argument. I think it’s part of his desire to prove to everyone we’re fine and he has things under control. After all, if he can’t control me, his helpless little fiancée, how can he be expected to rule our House?

And because of that, I can’t keep my secret about cadet training for very long.

A few minutes later, we’re standing in the lunch line when the attendant spies me. “Poet Graves?” she asks, and I nod before she turns around and deposits a tray on the counter. It’s a large plate laden with chicken, veggies, and pasta. “This is for you.”