Page 36 of Wings So Wicked


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Nine

By the time the sun set, my body screamed at me.

I had trained like this before many, many times with Lord, but I never took so many losses. I had two more matches after my fight with Ryder, each one weakening my body with hits and punches that I could hardly fight back. I found myself warring with my instincts more than I ever had, and if I was being honest, that was more painful than the physical torture.

Either way, I limped back to my bedroom when all was said and done.

It wasn’t until the door closed behind me that I pressed my back against it, closed my eyes, and finally relaxed.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Wolf’s voice sang through the air.

I opened my eyes to find him lounging in bed above his covers, shirtless, with his wings splayed out. It was funny how relaxed his wings could look, so different from the fierce, sharp position they were held in during training.

“I’m not in the mood,” I argued, limping toward the bathroom connected to our room.

“After watching you get your ass kicked all day, I must say, I have a few questions.”

I gritted my teeth. “I said I’m not in the mood,angel.”

I made it to the doorway of the bathroom and paused with a hand on the wall. My breathing came out labored.

Wolf sat up in bed. My instincts narrowed in on him, on his movements, as he pushed himself up and walked over to me.

“That’s going to hurt tomorrow,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m dying to know if this was all part of your master plan, Huntress. Do tell.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of anything but how close he stood. I couldn’t even get a minute of peace in this damned academy.

“That’s none of your business,” I hissed. Hells, even talking hurt more than I would have liked to admit.

The punches to my face weren’t the ones that bothered me. They never were. It was the hits to my ribs, my shoulders, my back that lingered. I healed quickly, yes, but these bruises were going to take a few days. On top of the still-healing scars from Lord’s punishment, I was in for an endless week of combat training.

I tried to take another step into the bathroom where I could close the door and fall apart without an audience, but my legs betrayed me. I stumbled forward, prepared to crash against the stone floor, but muscular arms hooked around my waist and hoisted me back up.

Wolf carried me into the bathroom and, within a second, set me on the edge of the bathtub. I didn’t fight him; I didn’t have the energy to.

I hissed in pain when he removed his arms from my body.

“Damn, Huntress,” he whispered, kneeling in front of me. “This doesn’t look too good for you.”

“It’s fine. I just need to clean the blood off and get some rest before tomorrow.”

From his position on the bathroom floor, he looked up at me, scanning my features the way he did way too often.

Hells.Wolf looked good on his knees. Especially when kneeling in front ofme.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” he asked. With his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide, he looked softer. Kinder, even. So much so that it was startling.

I let my eyes flutter closed. Wolf’s hands lingered on my knees. I hated to admit it, but the heat from his touch distracted me from the pain.

“Answer me,” he demanded. He didn’t sound angry. No, he sounded confused. Desperate, almost.

“They can’t know,” I whispered, keeping my eyes shut.

Wolf’s hands drifted down my legs, so light I barely felt it. He began unlacing my boots. Slowly, ensuring each lace was fully untied before beginning the next one.

I took a long, shaking breath. I blamed my unease on the pain, not the fact that he touched me with such an intimate delicacy.

“They can’t know what?” he asked. “That you’re a fighter? That you deserve to be here?”

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