“Yes, we do,” Jarred cut her off and then looked at Sinister with an impressive scowl on his pretty face.“Fucking Sleethill spawn was all up in her business.”
The temperature in the room dropped and spiked at once as the comfortable clinking of cutlery cut off.Wave looked around the room.Sinister and Zahir were having some sort of exchange, Hellion looked furious, Hazard closed off, and Ilijas and Sim just focused on their food.
Yash was the one to finally break the silence.He handed Wave another plate filled with roasted tomatoes, bacon, some potato cakes, and beans.Wave glanced at her plate, still half full with pancakes and blueberries and banana slices.
“Eat up, doll, you’ll need it,” Yash said with a shake of his head, and pulled another plate in front of himself, too.“And may all creatures have mercy on our souls when Marc hears.”
Chapter 15 – Marc
Marcwasinamood, and that mood was bordering on murderous.He had already decided they all needed to freshen up with their shielding, but Mrs.Riverson’s little visit drove that home like a punch in the gut.
Yash had coaxed the story out of Wayla during breakfast, and while hearing about her telling the asshole off had given him a partial hard-on, he still wanted to shake some sense into her.Irishen was heir apparent, and she was a storm spirit.They didn’t fight even on the same plane.
Jarred agreed that this took precedence over shielding against the Hell Moon.Besides, most of the principles could be transferred once she grasped them.
She wasn’t grasping them.
Marc gritted his teeth as Grant once again blasted her off her feet.He was being gentle, but Wayla’s teeth still cracked together when she landed.She needed to learn how to land without injuring herself.
He gave a cursory glance at the rest of the group sparring.He had mixed up all their usual patterns, and more than Wayla’s ass was making acquaintance with the training room’s floor.That made him flex his fingers in irritation.They had really become complacent.
Grant pushed and Wayla fell.
Marc stormed over.“You need toshieldWayla.This is not a game.Irishen is a grade-A asshole, and he’ll chew you up—”
“I’mtrying,” she snapped back, cutting him off.
“Try harder,” he growled right into her face.Yes, he had noticed the rosy tint of her lips and accentuated lashes.He had also noted how her top molded to her breasts and pants somehow made her legs look longer.And he didn’t give a shit.“Maybe if you focused on what you are supposed to do, instead of trying to look pretty, you’d get this.”
Something flashed in her eyes, but Marc couldn’t say if it was hurt or something else.He half expected her to blast him like last time, but Wayla just took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and turned to face Grant.
“Again.”
Grant gave Marc a warning look before squaring up against her.“Maybe we should try it the other way around.You attack me and I shield, so you can see how it’s done.”
Wayla shook her head.“I’m not very good at offense like that.”
“Maybe you should have thought about it before pissing off the heir fucking apparent,” Marc spat out.
“Marc!”Grant snapped at him.
Wayla didn’t even look at him, focused on Grant.She was standing too stiffly to roll with the push that was coming.Cursing, Marc moved to stand behind her.He grasped her hips and tugged her body tightly against his.Wayla stiffened even more, but he ignored it.
“Relax.You stand so stiffly that a breeze would topple you over and, believe me, what Grant is doing right now is equivalent to a tiny summer breeze fluffing your hair.”Said hair was tickling his nose when he leaned down to speak into her ear.
He tapped her lower stomach.“Your core muscles shouldn’t be crunching, just supporting.Limbs loose and ready, and remember to breathe.Now, Grant.”
Grant didn’t hesitate.He blasted Wayla with a wall of air, and this time, Marc guided her body down and rolled them over, pulling her with him back to her feet.Grant was ready and hit them again the moment she was upright.
Over and over, they rolled until Marc’s back was pressed against the wall.“You better shield now, sparkle.Nowhere to go.”
Grant hit them again, and Marc fully expected to be crushed against the wall for a moment.What he didn’t expect was a wall of solid ice to form in front of them.Before he could say or do anything, Wayla cursed, the wall shattered, chunks of ice flying to the floor, and she wrenched free of his hold.
“Fuck it,” she growled and stomped back where they had started.Grant followed her with comically wide eyes.“Again,” she snarled.
Grant shook his head and opened his mouth before Marc could.“What was that?”
Marc finally got his feet moving.
