Page 33 of Bound to Three Fae Beasts

“So transparent,” Flora cooed.

The other students gathered around closer as the barrier popped up. My body had gotten used to this, and it was already flooding my system with adrenaline. I opened my mouth to ask him why he decided to pull in such an audience, then stopped. Seb’s dark eyes flashed toward Jasper and his jaw tightened. Maybe this wasn’t his plan?

“Let’s start,” Seb said, rolling into a fighting stance.

I hesitated only a moment before I mimicked him. Feet slightly wider than shoulder-distance. Hands up and into fists. One protecting my jaw, the other ready to strike. Seb stood still, his gaze raking over me. It made the hairs all over my body stand on end. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gareth lean toward Jasper and whisper something. Jasper’s mouth moved, almost like he was about to smile.

“Feet a little closer,” Seb ordered, falling out of his stance. “And don’t lock your knees.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He didn’t offer verbal correction like this usually. I adjusted my stance, and to my consternation, realized it did make me more stable. He moved back into his own fighting stance, and I took the opportunity to study him deeply. He waited as I corrected my own posture.

What was worse, around us several of the other students, including the older ones, started to mimic us as well. A few of them studied Seb with such intense expressions, I realized they weren’t here to be entertained by watching him beat me up. They had assembled to learn something from him.

So this wasn’t just an exercise to humiliate me. He was actually going to teach me because of the witnesses. Had Jasper set this up to mess with him?

“Focus,” Seb snapped.

I let out a soft breath. “Seems like you’re not the lazy prince I thought you were.”

Seb frowned at me. “Excuse me?”

“Looks like we’ve got an audience who are eager to hear your instruction,” I said, cursing myself for speaking out loud. “That means they must think you’re worth listening to. As much as it pains me to give you a compliment, that must mean that you’re competent enough.”

He started moving, circling me. “House Laurel takes its training seriously, Miss Azriel.”

“Which begs the question, why would Lotmas assign you to be my peer-mentor when you’re so high above me?” I mocked, unable to stop myself. The compliment I’d paid him sat heavy on my tongue and I wanted to get rid of the feeling of it.

Seb shook his head slowly. “You need to learn when to keep that mouth shut.”

“Yeah. I’ve been told that before.”

He came at me with a strike at my ribs. I parried. We traded blows, and I concentrated on evading him. With everyone watching, I wanted to get in a few good blows back, but at the same time, I was worried about how it would go. Seb stopped a few times to give me pointers. Our audience hung onto his every word.

“She’s not too bad,” Jasper said.

Seb tensed. His mouth pulled into a tight slash. Then he redoubled his efforts. I fended him off as best I could, but before I knew it, he’d slammed me onto the hardwood floor. The air exploded from my lungs. I protected my face with one arm, gasping for breath.

“You’ve gotten worse,” he sneered at me.

I tried to unseat him, but he pressed one arm across my shoulders, keeping me down. His body was solid over me, keeping me in place. His knee dug into my stomach. A few of the watching students gave wolf whistles, which gave me an idea.

“Are you angry because you want me to be on top?” I asked in a wheeze. I tried to give him a seductive look but failed.

He frowned at me. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean you’re secretly a bottom, aren’t you?” I said, speaking louder. “And you’re mad that you’re being forced to be a top.”

Flora gave an angry shriek. “How dare you speak to him that way?”

Seb leaned back, putting more weight onto my stomach. “Flora, please. She’s obviously trying to make me angry enough to make a mistake. It’s an amateur move. Don’t rise to her bait.”

Flora let out another strangled noise and folded her arms.

At this, Red taunted, “She wishes she could get enough attention to be bedded. Look at her face! Any man would have to be desperate to touch her.”

I attempted to throw Seb off, but he only adjusted his hold on me, keeping me in place. Ah, and here we went. It was time to switch from being a training moment to the humiliation. The intensity of his gaze softened, and that smirk came onto his face. I was starting to see that as a sign that he was performing for the audience.

“That’s true,” he said, tilting his head toward Red. “I’d rather castrate myself than ever be forced to touch her.”’