Page 13 of Nyx
Reyes
Shadowsoffermecoveras I wait. Sweat coats my palm as it tightens around the leather-wrapped handle of my dagger, and the thud of footsteps inside the storage building make me tense. The porous surface of the bricks catches the fabric of my shirt as I peek through the window to track his movements.
Black hair bobs in a sauntering stroll, and once he’s finished with his mission, he moves towards the exit. The blaring sun shines directly onto the front door, and I use it to my advantage as I wait for him to step outside.
Is it cheating to do this when his arms are full of rice and beans? Probably.
Do I care?
Absolutely not.
I launch myself from the shadows with my dagger drawn, aiming for Ronan’s weaker left side. Mere inches before I make contact, he swings, and a ten-pound sack of beans smashes me in the face.
“Oh, motherfucker!” I shout as I stagger backward, gripping my nose as stars flash in my vision.
“So clunky on those feet,” Ronan chides with a bored click of his tongue. “Tiny human that makes so much noise.”
“I’m not tiny,” I argue with a scowl, still holding my throbbing nose. Fuck, it hurts. Ronan looks infinitely pleased with himself as I gesture at my five-foot-nine frame. “I am perfectly average.”
He snickers as he gives me a snooty once-over. “Yes, average is a good word to describe you, isn’t it?”
My eyes narrow, and I flash my teeth at him, but he only laughs harder in that infuriatingly condescending way he has. “Maybe you’re just a shitty teacher,” I taunt, and his laughter fades to a growl as he bares his fangs at me. “Three lessons now, and I can’t even sneak up on someone? You must not be doing something right.”
“Cocky little asshole,” he snarls, and my grip tightens on my dagger. The blade is real, but blunt enough not to pose an actual threat to Ronan or Elas. When we started these sessions, I suggested a wooden practice knife so I wouldn’t hurt them. Ronan laughed me out of the room.
Let’s see him laugh now.
“Yeah, well—” My words cut off abruptly as my gaze fixes over his shoulder. “Who the fuck is that with Cameron?”
“What?!” he growls, whipping to stare at where Cameron sits alone beside the boiling cauldron, sanitizing glass jars for the upcoming harvest.
While Ronan is distracted—and before I can second-guess myself or my sanity—I grab a few strands of his hair. Thedull blade tugs as it slides through them, and he freezes, predatorially still. He turns to face me, his eyes dropping to the dozen long strands pinched in my fingers.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper as the black of his pupils expands.
“What have you done?!”he bellows, and instinct sends me into a dead sprint. He roars behind me, and his feet thump on the ground like a countdown to my demise.
“Fuck!”Every head outside pops up and stares in my direction, and I will my legs to move faster. “No, no, no, no… Cameron! August!” I wail, and Cameron watches me with a wicked grin while August stares from the porch with wide eyes. “Someone save me! Please! He’s going to… he’s going to kill meeeaaaaaAAHH!”
Ronan tackles me from behind, and I grunt as we hit the ground together. The air whooshes from my lungs as he pins me there, easily eighty pounds heavier than me. “Did youseriouslycut my hair?” he shouts from on top of me, and I whine as I lift my head in search of a savior.
“Oh, you done fucked up,” Cameron says with a laugh.
“It was only a few strands!” I wheeze through strangled breaths. “A tiny little spot no one will ever see! Let me up!” I wedge my elbows beneath my torso and try to lift myself, but he shoves me back down and forces another grunt from my throat. “You can’t just use your weight to pin me!”
“Looks like it’s working fine to me.”
“Yeah, well, just because you’re getting a gut doesn’t mean you have to make it a weapon,” I taunt.
Cameron inhales sharply, then cheerfully yells, “That was maybe not the best move!” Ronan’s fingers fist my curls and lift my chin from the ground.
“First you cut my hair, now you tell me I’m getting agut?” he growls near my ear, low and oh, so dangerous.
“It’s not your fault happy people get fat,” I gasp as he pushes his body even harder on mine. It forces out the last of my breath, making my voice come out in a barely there squeak. “And you are very,veryhappy. So happy. The happiest.”
Ronan pitches forward, most likely to wrap his hands around my neck. His weight lifts from my chest long enough for me to take a gasping inhale, and I use the opportunity to buck off the ground, trying to throw him. He only chuckles darkly as those fingers squeeze in my hair until it stings.
“Think he can last eight seconds?” Cameron asks August, who watches in concerned amusement with his arms crossed and a smile ticking over his lips. “Reyes, I mean. Not Ronan. He candefinitelylast longer than that.”
