Page 153 of Wings of Destruction

He’d taken me away and forced me to train, his version of training. The fact that I wasn’t strong enough to stop him or protect her only fueled the lengths I’m willing to go to destroy him.

“You’re standing in your own way, you fool,” I say smoothly, frowning against my fury.

She opens her mouth to object as I tug her back into position, inches between us.

“I told you,” she growls, anxiety vibrating through her words. “I’m not going to do what you want me to do. And the harder you push me, the more adamant I am.”

“Why?” The word bellows out of me.

This is what happens when you lose control. She flinches, her skin paling further and a small cry of pain escapes her throat. I loosen my grip slightly when I realize I’m holding her too tightly.

I force my expression into a flat mask, patiently waiting for her to answer. I swallow over a lump in my throat when she turns away.

“Just let me go.”

I push her back a step. Then another. She drops her gaze to her feet. I refuse to let go of her no matter how she tugs, and she blinks in surprise when her spine connects to the stone wall. Her pulse hitches, mouth falling open slightly.

“No,” I say darkly. “I’m not going to let you go. I’m⁠—”

I bite my tongue against the rest of what I want to say. An irritated breath rattles out of her. Her pulse does a little triple pound in surprise.

Caged between me and the wall, I release her right hand and angle my hip to keep her from going for my thigh holster. Then, to keep her off guard, I tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear, watching her flinch.

Reveling in the softness.

She snarls at me in rage for the touch. She closes her fist to strike, but I push myself flat to her front.

“What possible reason do you have to say no to being a student here?” I ask.

Her gaze turns steely. “You.”

I sniff dismissively. “Think long and hard about your next move.”

My body practically trembles with the force of holding back my energy, and my skin goes oddly tight. Her hand whips out, aiming for my face, and I tilt away to avoid the slap and those dirt-stained nails.

She looks me over, and her eyes narrow. The thoughts churning in her head are practically written across her face, and none of them are decent.

So why does it make heat drop and pool at my core? Why do I have to fight doubly hard against the desire to grip her chin and crush my lips to hers?

“How many people have died at the end of your blade, Ryson?” she asks carefully.

Her question douses me in frigid guilt.

“What?”

“How many innocents have you gutted? How many fields have you turned into charnel houses? That’s how many bad deeds make you a monster. None of those deaths were ever in the name of good. They were in the name of ambition.”

I shake my head sharply. “You know better.”

“I know nothing about you. My entire village was cut down under you, under your father’s orders, and I nearly died in the effort. You murdered countless people simply because they refused to pay more than triple in taxes.”

My jaw clenches with the effort of holding myself back.

“Count your victims and get back to me. I’ll wait.”

Six hundred fifty-two. She doesn’t think I know the real number, but every single one of them is burned into my soul.

“I wish we didn’t live in a world where we have to fight for any small scrap of justice. You think I don’t?” I bite out the words. “I know better than anyone the cost of sacrifice and how necessary it is to make a difference.”