Page 117 of Warrior's Reign
She rested her hands on the table. “What you probably suspect. Sir.”
There was a beat of nothingness, then a maelstrom burst lose. Reign dove from her chair, cursing the lack of body armor.
Vykhan and Lohail leaped at each other over the wreckage of the breakfast table, Lohail’s savage grin matched by the incandescent rage on Vykhan’s.
Reign swore. “What the fuck are you doing? Stop this!”
. . .maybe she’d miscalculated? She’d wanted to get Lohail to let down his guard, and punishing Vykhan had been an added, if admittedly little messed up, bonus. His fault for implying her sleeping with Lohail would be no big deal, like she was nothing important to either of them. She’d figured she’d have to endure some displeasure. But not this rage. Possessiveness was so far from the path of Silence she really hadn’t expected him of it.
Maybe Vykhan had lied to himself too. Maybe he’d genuinely thought himself above such petty things like jealousy.
Looked like they were all learning a valuable lesson.
The battle raged around her. Neither had drawn weapons. They moved like wind, and if she wasn’t afraid Lohail’s guards would burst in and shoot at her and Vykhan, she might enjoy it. Also, if she wasn’t now just a smidgen worried about how he was going to deal with her when he was done with Lohail. There were certain lines that if he crossed them, there would be no going back.
“Aren’t we supposed to be discussing a palace insurrection?” she shouted. “Vykhan, grow the fuck up! It was just a little oral.”
Wrong thing to say. Vykhan bared teeth with sharp incisors at Lohail. Oh, shit, that was bad. This couldn’t go on. Reign blanched, recognizing the beginning Forms in a sequence that would end in Lohail’s death. Evidently he recognized it to, because his aura changed, darkened.
She had started this. She had to stop it.
Timing it, she leaped. Stupid, stupid, getting in the middle of this kind of fight between two warriors who outclassed the fuck out of her. She just needed to get their attention though.
Reign suffered at least one glancing blow before she blocked Vykhan’s next Form, hoping Lohail was sane enough to check himself and not hit her. She staggered back, spitting blood out of her mouth. “Vykhan! Adevega will be here in days. Iwaspaying attention last night.”
Hefocusedon her and Reign knew for certain that not once, ever, had he fully unleashed his strength during a spar.
He made her fight, and this was unlike any time she’d been with him in the training circle, either at the academy or the palace. She grabbed onto Silence, crafting a place in her mind to think despite his onslaught.
His eyes were frozen pools of rage, twin storms she feared buried his entire personality. She feared he would actually kill her.
She slipped into Silence, countering his Forms without aggressing in return. Then the sequence downgraded. The bastard was playing with her.
She knew this sequence, this blasted strategy of Forms that always ended one way because she’d never quite been able to unravel the way Eredan’s tricky mind worked. It ended with her back pressed against his chest, his body entrapping hers. He must have developed it for just this purpose. An excuse to rub his cock against her ass. She’d still been inexperienced at the time. But in his arms now, she couldn’t see this for anything other than what it was.
“Still too slow, Reign,” he crooned, mouth against her ear.
She panted, breaths harsh in her chest, completely entrapped in his arms. “Slow, my ass, Eredan. You’ve gotten sloppy. You should have taken me five minutes ago.”
“I believe,” he said, “I will rectify that.”
“Excuse me?”
He spun her around, hands locked around her upper arms, and gave her a brisk once over. Then shoved her to the side.
“Wait, no!”
He’d snatched Lohail out of the air, hand around his neck, and slammed him to the ground where he crouched over the Aeddannar, who just looked up at him with a taunting smile, hands held mockingly in the air.
“I surrender. Please don’t hurt me,sir.”
Vykhan snarled. “Don’t ever touch her again. Even if she asks you.”
“Begs,” Lohail corrected, smile turning dreamy. “Even if shebegs,‘ashara.”
“I hate males,” she muttered.
But still Vykhan waited.
