Page 149 of The Gods Order

Mara grips Yemi the moment Gladian’s eyes shift to her, and the pinched frown on his face almost makes me laugh.

“Come, God of Strength. I’ll dance around with you,” Meridamus says, and Gladian’s eyes narrow.

There’s no doubt the last being he wants to spar with is the father of his previous—fake—Valtrue member.

Creed smirks at Barir as he tosses him a sword. By the look on the God of Treachery’s face, he’s been looking for an opportunity to take a swing at Death.

Good fucking luck.

Riven giggles something to Vullie about blowing something up, and the two of them skip off into la-la-land together.

Surprisingly, Iric passes Prath a sword. I suppose it isn’t so shocking, seeing as they’ll be working closely together in the near future. Iric’s interest in his power was obvious from the second he found out who he was. If for no other reason than to reinvent the imitation rooms, he’ll make a friend out of him.

Doren and Nero glance at one another, more than pleased to be paired.

I sit back and watch every grouping get into their positions.

Thayla and Sevryn didn’t bother stretching like everyone else. Their swords crack against one another in brutal strikes. She attacks. He blocks. Then the cycle repeats itself.

A smile tugs at my lips as she cusses him out for everything he’s worth when he asks her if that’s all she’s got. People who’ve never watched her in battle or seen her train probably think she’s ruthless and reckless.

She’s not.

Impatient? Absolutely.

Stubborn? Without question.

Ruthless? Only when necessary.

But reckless? Never.

Every strike she throws has purpose behind it. Every adjustment is deliberate. She calculates her opponent’s next five moves. She knows what they’re going to do even before they do.

The problem for her is that Sevryn knows exactly how she fights. Which means every vicious swing is met by one of his own.

It drives her fucking mad. She’ll still come out on top eventually.

“Do you plan on training today or just observing?”

I peer at Val as he makes himself comfortable nearly shoulder to shoulder with me, holding his own training sword down by his side.

“I had rotation in the Court this morning,” I say, focusing back on the others.

“So did nearly everyone else, but they’re still training.”

A sigh escapes me. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know what I’m capable of. You know I don’t need to train like everyone else.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “I just thought you might like to train with someone closer to your skill set.”

“And have my Binder mad at me for accidentally hurting you before you can finish training her and her power? No, thanks.”

He laughs, not taking offence to my cockiness whatsoever, and my lips twitch.

“I fear she might laugh rather than be concerned,” he says.

“Possibly,” I agree, then lower my voice. “Trying to buddy up to me isn’t going to make her any less angry with you.”

“I’m aware.” He sighs. “That isn’t my intention anyway. I’m simply bored and Meridamus has found himself a new toy to taunt tonight.”