“So much.” I staggered to my feet and held my hand out to help John up, but instead of taking my offering, he kicked out at my shins, and I slammed down on top of him with an oof.
The wind was knocked out of my lungs.
While I was momentarily distracted, two hands wrapped around my throat.
Darkness twinkled around John as he winked down at me. “I win. Take that. Now who’s the idiot?”
I flipped him off as he crushed my trachea with his fingers.
He waggled his eyebrows like he wasn’t strangling me to death. I slammed my hips upward with all my force, and pushed him off.
A flash of black streaked across the air.
John’s eyes widened, and suddenly he was moving much quicker. In a split second, he rolled on top of me protectively and tugged us across the floor.
Clang.
A black dagger, made of nightmares, lay on the ground right where we’d been fighting.
“Did you just try to stab them?” Luka asked with anger, chest heaving as he stood silhouetted in the doorway, snow and ice wafting around him.
Scorpius stood behind him, plush upper lip contorted into a scowl. “Did you say ‘stab’？” he asked menacingly.
The violence ratcheted up.
“To be fair”—John offered to help me up—“we deserved it.”
I ignored his hand and stood up, then shoved at his chest. “Maybe lay off choking so aggressively? What is wrong with you?”
John shoved me back with so much strength that I flew across the room and slammed onto my bunk bed.
He stalked after me and leaned forward. His voice dropped an octave, and he grinned. “But I liked that my fingerprints are on your neck.”
He winked.
“What the fuck? Be gentle with her.” Luka grabbed his twin and pulled him back from me.
I gaped at John as he was dragged across the room by his twin, and I tried to process his words.
He shimmied his hips and winked in his brother’s arms, dimples on full display as he licked his lips.
His dark eyes twinkled with mirth.
Outrage turned to gratitude in my chest as I realized what had just happened.
Once again, John had acted so ridiculously that he’d successfully distracted me when I was spiraling.
Scorpius pushed past John, bumping against him with his entire body as he passed, then he glowered down at me. “I wanted to ask you something.” He clenched his teeth, and a muscle ticked in the sharp edge of his jawline. “Can we talk?”
His cut cheekbones were stark against his hollowed cheeks.
There were dark-purple smudges underneath his eyes.
The man before me looked exhausted, and my gut told me his change in demeanor had nothing to do with war against the ungodly. Scorpius was a self-proclaimed sadomasochist and wasn’t someone to balk at something as trivial as murder.
No.
It wasn’t the war; it was something else.
His jaw clenched tighter, and he tapped his foot with impatience as he waited for me to respond.
I sat silently and stared up at him blankly as I purposefully said nothing just to piss him off.
He clenched his jaw tighter.
Pride filled me because it was nice to set goals and achieve them, especially when those goals were tormenting men.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to process the fact that John had purposefully left red marks on my throat while we play wrestled, and now Scorpius was asking for permission to speak.
Men were bizarre creatures.
“Shoot.” I leaned back on my covers with my arm behind my head, legs spread wide like the fuck boy I used to pretend to be. Casual and unbothered, with the confidence of someone who’d achieved greatness while doing nothing.
It was empowering being delusional.
“I’m manspreading, just so you know,” I said, just so he could get the full picture.
Scorpius’s dark eyebrows contrasted with his pale complexion as they lifted. “Okay?” he asked with confusion, then shook his head and said forcefully, “I know you’re exhausted after training, so”—he gritted his teeth together—“please let me wash you in the shower.”
He said “please” like it was a filthy word.
“Why?” I asked, genuinely confused.
He pulled at the neck of his sweatshirt like he was dying from discomfort.
“I’m your Protector,” he said with a sneer that insinuated I was stupid for asking.
“False—you’re just a rude asshole.”
White teeth flashed as he bared them at me, then his expression smoothed over like he was forcing himself to appear unthreatening.
He failed.