Page 6 of Knot What She Seems
3
RIDGE
If there’sone thing that hasn’t changed in the years since I’ve graduated from Eros Academy, it’s the smell. Stale, pungent, and reeking of sweat. Even far away from the main academic building, I have to work extremely hard to keep my face impassive as I step into the unreasonably tiny cottage they designated for me and my team.
Kylian pushes past me, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.
“DIBS!” he hollers, rushing toward the only bed and belly flopping onto the surface.
Luka moves to stand beside me and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Remind me again how Kylian is one of the most feared alphas in the kingdom?” Derision and disgust drip from his tone.
I wipe a hand over my mouth but don’t bother to respond. I’ve gotten used to Kylian’s antics. Everyone’s got a release valve. His just happens to be a bit louder and more boisterous than the rest of ours.
Kylian may not be the largest of us, but his reputation on the battlefield precedes him. He’s a skilled gunsmith and marksman, able to hit any target from hundreds of feet away. His dark skin, colorful tattoos, and close-cropped black hair give him an intimidating aura, but the smile on his face resembles a puppy who just stumbled upon a huge bone.
Luka runs a single finger across the nearby table, collecting a liberal amount of dust.
“This place is absolutely revolting,” he murmurs, and I imagine he’s already thinking through his cleaning regimen for our time here.
“At least it’s better than the dorms,” I grumble as I haul my duffel bag the rest of the way into the cottage and set it on the floor beside the front door. I don’t know how the school expects to fit four grown men here, but it’s not like we were given much choice. Most professors have the option of living off campus, but not us.
We’re special like that.
The cottage is dilapidated, with cracked walls, peeling paint, and dust that covers nearly every available surface. The school wouldn’t have bothered hiring a maid for this building, so far away from the main campus. At least it has a roof and a bed and a refrigerator, which is better than some of the places we’ve been forced to live in over the years.
It’s not under a constant barrage of gunfire, so there’s that.
Through a second door, I can make out a tiny bedroom, which consists of nothing but a queen-size bed flanked by two nightstands. A dresser rests opposite it, though one of the legs appears shorter than the other, causing it to tilt at an odd angle.
The living room bleeds into the kitchen, carpeting transitioning to pale white tiles, and the walls are painted a strange gray color. There’s no dining room that I can see, but it’s not as if we’re the type of pack to sit around the table and enjoy a home-cooked meal. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time one of us cooked.
That used to be Colter’s thing.
Speaking of…
“Does anyone have eyes on Colter?” I ask, alarm seeping into my bloodstream as I scan the forest behind me. In the distance, I can just make out the turrets of Eros Academy, the dark towers poking through the green tapestry like cement trees.
Kylian freezes where he’s practically dry-humping the bed—the first bed any of us have had access to in a little over a year—and Luka runs a hand through his brown hair contemplatively.
“I saw a bunch of recruits in the field a ways back,” Luka says. “He could be throwing knives at them and watching them run.”
Kylian smothers his laughter with the back of his hand while I regard our youngest pack member coldly.
“Not fucking funny.”
Luka arches a brow. “Who says I’m joking?”
I love all of my packmates like brothers, but if I had to choose one to throw off a cliff, it would be Luka. He’s the smartest man I know…but also the dumbest. He has the tact of a baby bull traipsing through a china shop.
All four of us met when we were students at Eros Academy, and we knew immediately that we were meant to be a pack. Our various skills and talents—as well as our bloodthirsty nature—allowed us to quickly rise through the ranks and become one of the best teams the kingdom has ever seen.
Kylian is skilled with weapons, Luka at planning, me at leading, and Colter…
As if my thoughts alone summoned him, the final member of our pack steps into the cottage, the room instantly feeling too small and suffocating. I’m not a small alpha by any means—I come in at over six feet and three inches and have defined muscles—but I’m nothing compared to Colter. He makes giants appear dainty. His blue jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s shirtless, revealing an intricate network of white and red scars on his chest, distorting some of his tattoos.
And, like always, he wears a mask, obscuring all of his facial features from view.
This one was once a gas mask but has been transformed to fit his purposes. It’s been painted a pasty white to resemble a skeleton, with dark smudges beneath both of his eye holes. More black paint cascades in haphazard lines from his forehead to his cheeks in a way that reminds me vaguely of blood.
