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The classroom fills up quickly, and I’m happy not to find any of my usual tormentors among the faces here. Professor Malik waits another moment before introducing himself, but before he can give out instructions, the door to the changing room opens and a familiar face walks in.
Zeke.
What the hell is he doing here?
“Class, this is Ezekiel Oren, a student at SCU and one of the Assassins’ Guild’s interns. He’ll be joining our classes on a regular basis to assist with your training. Within these walls, he’s to be treated the same as any faculty member. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Professor,” the class chimes in unison.
“Good. We’ll begin with basic maneuvers. Ezekiel and I will demonstrate, and then you’ll spend a bit of time practicing yourself. After that, we’ll partner you up for some one-on-one training. As this is your first year, we’ll be taking things slow, assessing to find out where your strengths lie and where you need the most focus. Now. Let’s begin.”
Professor Malik and Zeke each stand in front of a punching bag, calling out different hits and kicks before performing the action. I can’t tear my eyes away from the firm muscles of Zeke’s body. Even beneath the tight fabric of his combat gear, I can almost see each individual muscle and remember the way his body felt pressed into mine.
He looks up then, catching my ogling, and I have no doubt that he caught the lust behind my eyes. I could probably scorch his damn shirt off if I don’t look away.Get it together, Hayliel. Raphael quenched your damn thirst yesterday. Don’t be greedy.
When the professor shouts that it’s time to try it ourselves, I push all thoughts of Zeke aside and practice the strikes as they’re called out.
“Jab!”
This one is easy enough. I punch with my fist closest to the bag. A small grin spreads across my face, but I shake it off and focus on practicing the hit a few more times.
“Straight punch!”
Even easier. Using the hand furthest away from the bag, I twist my body to give me optimal power, feeling the swing of my ponytail with the motion.Piece of fucking cake.
The small hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and something tells me I’m being watched, but as I survey the room, everyone’s concentrating on their strikes. Professor Malik and Zeke make their way through the class, throwing out tips on stance as they go.
“Hook punch!”
I don’t have a lot of experience with fighting, but Dina had taken a boxing class when she was younger before the instructor moved away and the new one wouldn’t take Fallen students. She and I would practice whatever she’d learned in class that day, and this one had always been my favorite.
Once I’ve thrown the punch a few times, that odd sense of being watched comes back. I can feel the heat of the stare along my cheek. Pretending to throw another punch, I turn, my gaze locking on Zeke’s green eyes across the classroom.
He clearly wants nothing to do with me, so why the fuck does he keep staring? I ignore him, focusing on the commands the professor calls out as we move from punching to kicking. It feels good to get some of this energy out, and by the time we’ve finished our rounds on the bag, I feel lighter than I have in a long time. As hard as I try, though, I can’t quite shake the watchful gaze of Zeke. Especially not when he continues to stray closer to me.
“Great job, class. Before you split into pairs and pick a mat, Zeke and I will show you a few practical takedowns, holds, and basic sparring techniques we’d like you to familiarize yourself with.”
Once again, I’m forced to watch Zeke’s powerful frame. They take turns throwing or holding one another, and I can’t help the drool that pools in my mouth while watching Zeke throw down. If only he’d take his head out of his ass, then maybe I’d let him toss me around like that. Okay, maybe that’s not exactly true. My pussy would for sure, but with whatever’s going on between Raphael and me, I doubt he’d appreciate me fucking someone else.
How the hell have I ended up in this situation?
The pair finish up their demonstrations, and Professor Malik addresses the class. “Once you’ve got a partner and a mat, you may get started. We’ll work on this for the rest of the class. Begin!”
The students break up into groups around me, each pair running off to claim their mat and preparing to test out their new tactics, but not a single person approaches me. No one even looks my way until it’s clear I’m the only one without a partner.
It stings, and I’m reminded that as great as things have been going with my friends, everything outside of our little group is still shit.
“Ah, I thought I saw we’d have an odd number of students,” Professor Malik says when he approaches me. “Zeke, could you come here, please?”
Zeke finishes helping a pair of doe-eyed girls with their form before heading our way, and the blood in my veins starts to boil. Why does seeing him with other girls affect me so much? It’s not as though I have any claim to him, and he’s made it perfectly clear that he wants nothing to do with me. But why can’t I shake him and this unmistakable jealousy?
Zeke finally approaches us, his brows drawn together when he realizes Professor Malik stands beside me.
“I need you to pair with Hayliel.”
Zeke’s face never shifts, seeming completely neutral except for the small crease between his brows. We speak at the same time.
“I have to assist the other students.”
