Page 6 of Rook of Ruin
I’m not going to allow him to ruin this for me. Instead of cowering, I throw him a cocky smile. His frown deepens. I don’t turn to see the wide eyes and stares from Recruits at my back. Paul’s solo clap gives me comfort while the rest of the Recruits are stunned into silence.
Whispers and murmurs finally begin to surround me as I step closer to Ossian. “The first Rook to ever graduate a year early,” they whisper.
Ossian’s body looms over mine for a moment, but I keep my arrogant grin in place. Practically ignoring me, he glides through thick, wooden double doors. His silence says it all. I’ve outshined him again.
“Jealous?” I muse as I follow him.
“Hardly. I see nothing to be jealous of. You’re no Rook,” he says a little too loudly for my liking.
My voice grows, too aware of the other Recruits’ gasps and Paul’s look of exasperation. “Oh, I thought Spiders had great eyesight. Should I fetch you some glasses?”
Ossian scowls. “You could fetch me a—”
“A personality? Yes, I forgot you didn’t have one.”
There’s a murmur from the Recruits and I’m quite sure Paul has his palm to his face.
He whips around. “Thunderous Mercy! Your mouth will get you into trouble.”
“With who?” I taunt as I slam the wooden door shut behind us.
Ossian’s violent and immense power earned him the nickname “Spider.” I usually call him an ass. Just last year, he was a Recruit himself, but he has risen quickly through the ranks. He has the ability to paralyze his prey, reach into their minds to weave a mental web, and capture or destroy the deepest of secrets. Three months ago, he came home from a mission and has been an insufferable prick to me ever since. Specifically to me, no one else.
“Me,” Ossian replies.
My smile momentarily disappears as my body hits the stone wall.
Ossian shoved me.Fucking ass.
Pulled up to his full height, he boxes me in, and his silky voice drips with disdain. “You haven’t truly earned your brace or your wings. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but Iwillfind out.”
My neck strains as I peer up into his stupid face. “This isn’t a game. This is my life. This is what I’ve worked hard for. I’m getting my brace and wings.Ones. I’ve. Earned.” I give him the meanest look I can muster, and his body jerks back in surprise. No one gives the Spider nasty looks. Tilting my head, my finger juts out, almost pushing into his leathers. “You’re jealous that I’ve outperformed you in everything.” I get under Ossian’s skin easily, and for some strange reason, I really enjoy it.
He snorts, glancing down at my finger he could effortlessly snap. “Not everything.”
Ignoring his reply, I lift my chin, and my voice bites back, “No parting words of wisdom from the Spider?”
Ossian leans down, our noses almost touching, “Don’t be a reckless fuck-up,Lady Verlan,and fight for yourself, because you don’t know who or what you can trust. You can always trust yourself. That’s my advice to you.”
A fake bright smile comes across my face. I know it will annoy him. “Thanks. I’m sure when I think back on this important moment in my life, I’ll remember your wonderful words of wisdom, especially the part about being a reckless fuck-up.” I huff. “Is that the advice you would have given another Recruit, or just me?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t get another Recruit, who I have isyou.” He tilts his head slightly. “What I may or may not have said to another isn’t important.”
I shove past him and give a crude gesture with my fingers.
Ossian sighs deeply, easily catching up to me, and twists me around. His grey eyes search my face. “You really—you reallydidn’t know you were to receive your brace today?” The way he says it is both a question and a statement.
Anger flushes my skin. “Does it look like I did?” I motion to my bloody leathers and crazed hair. “I was told to report here directly from the Locker. For someone who prides themselves on knowing everything, you sure as fuck don’t know anything.”
He regards me for a moment, and his lips twitch, almost wanting to smile. Pleased with myself, a smug look spreads over my face because I’ve won this battle in our endless war. We resume walking and approach another set of double doors. Ossian opens it, and I heave a breath and enter. Inside, the Matron of the Locker greets us warmly. She, along with two other superior Rook officers I do not recognize, smiles widely. A large, blue curtain separates the room into two. My heart beats rapidly in excitement.
“Recruit Verlan.” Matron’s genuine smile is always a comfort. She watches as Ossian moves to stand stiffly next to me, then holds out her hand, gesturing. “Please, follow me.”
I follow her past the curtain, leaving everyone behind. Another Grey Sister waits for us and requests that I take off my leathers to change into a gold tunic with matching leggings while they fill a large gold basin with a silver shimmery liquid substance. I swallow my nervousness. The gold sleeveless tunic and leggings are too small and itchy, and in this important moment of my life, I look ridiculous. I take a moment to breathe and smooth out my hair.
Matron’s smile is unchanging as she speaks in a soothing voice. “Which forearm do you wish to use?”
“Left,” I reply, and she nods, waiting for the other Grey Sister to finish her duty. I’m very confident in my choice, especially after watching Rooks spar using their braces to block blows with their weaker arm. A brace might seem delicate, but it is not. They are physically and magically powerful. Supposedly, overa hundred years ago, Acros’s first queen, Queen Phicese, was given the means to make our braces. Who, or what, gave her such power is still up for debate, as the archives that stored such information burned down long ago.
