“You'd better wake up, precious girl.” Zane stroked my cheek with regret.
“What?” I answered in confusion.
“NOW!”
I shot up in bed, the flush of desire still in my system, and my heart pounding a mile a minute. “Get your lazy asses out of bed and report to the training field. Your performances yesterday left a lot to be desired, and Selene is pissed.” Seamus, the douche, yelled. Beating on all the doors in the hall.
I groaned and rolled over.
Fuck.
That dream had been beyond realistic. I was still pulsing, and my panties were definitely wet with my release. I breathed deeply; my nose filled with our combined scents. I needed that, even if it wasn’t real. I missed each of my guys with a pain that was beyond description.
I took one more moment to bask in the closeness I’d felt with Zane, then heaved myself up, dressed quickly, and headed to breakfast. Today was going to suck, but I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
Hopefully, my day would be filled only with the rigors of training, not torture from Kristine, Selene, or Ubel the bastard. I had serious doubts that I’d be that lucky after I punched one of Kristine’s men, but there was no harm in dreaming.
I went to the dining hall and ate breakfast without any interference, then headed to the field.
As I did a few stretches to loosen up, I was relieved to see that neither Kristine nor her Faction was present at the moment.Since she wasn’t required to train and didn’t participate in fights, she was rarely here this early, if she ever came at all. That provided me with some much-needed relief from her bullshit.
I headed to the armory to retrieve the short swords that I had become proficient at fighting with. I was allowed to practice with them and take them into the coliseum, but I had to return them immediately after. There's no way that I would be allowed to carry them on me all the time.
Instructor Razor was handing out weapons, “You had an excellent match yesterday, Hawthorne.”
Apparently, he was promoted after he raised the alarm when Dad and Damien escaped with Nathan… there were no witnesses to say otherwise.
He was one of the few people whom I knew I could trust. “Yes, and most of that is thanks to you.”
Razor handed the large guy in front of me a broadsword, then turned to grab my babies. “I’d love to take all the credit, but you’ve been an excellent student.” He winked, “Your previous instructors must have been very talented.”
I smiled a little sadly. “They were the best.”
“Go through your warm-ups, and I’ll be by soon to help with anything you’re having trouble with.” Razor looked at me in sympathy, then turned to answer a question from another warrior.
I headed to my usual spot to start, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall, muscular man stop nearby and begin a warm-up similar to mine. He was wielding a rare stormcutter sword. The only people able to use this specific weapon were those who could control lightning.
I paused, unable to begin my own warm-up, mesmerized by how smoothly each movement flowed into the next. This man was incredibly talented; his movements were so fluid that it seemed the sword was an extension of his body. I knew I’d neverseen him before, but something about the way he moved felt familiar.
He noticed me watching and smiled, but he didn’t pause in his warm-up. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. His talent was incredible. I hope I never have to face him in the coliseum. I knew I was good, but I wasn’t confident about who would come out on top.
He finished with a flourish, then slipping his sword into the scabbard on his back, he approached, “Hi, beautiful, did you enjoy the performance?”
If he expected me to blush and deny that I was watching, he was going to be disappointed. “I did. You're amazing with that Stormcutter you carry. Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before.”
He flashed me a cocky grin, “I am. I just arrived late last night.” He bowed with a flourish. “Torren at your service.”
I returned his smile. “I’m Reverie.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance…Reverie.” He breathed my name, saying it slowly as though he savored the taste of it rolling off his tongue. He gazed at me for several seconds longer than was appropriate, and I found it hard to look away.
The moment was broken when I heard Razor yelling at a couple of guys practicing near us. “You two are handling those swords like you probably handle your tiny dicks. Inadequately and with zero finesse.”
I grinned, but my attention was drawn back to Torren when he pulled a band from his pocket and swept his shoulder-length blonde hair back out of his face. “Those short swords you use look deadly. Are they the only weapons you use in battle?”
I could only nod because I was momentarily struck dumb at how stunning he was. The sun shining on his head turned his hair golden, and his hazel eyes were captivating, leaning moretoward green than blue. He had a strong Roman nose that was almost too large, but it added character and kept him from appearing overly feminine. All of that was complemented by a strong jaw with a cleft in his chin.
Many handsome men were competing for a Faction, but he was far above them in looks and skill. My men were the only ones who could compare, but if the Ancestors were kind, they’d stay far from this place. He would be a member of a powerful Faction within the week, or my name wasn’t Reverie.
