Taking a minute to think about that, she said, “I’m not sure. I’ve never been to them here. Sometimes the training areas I’ve been in were used for demonstrations or punishments.”
He should talk to her about that. Try to get information about where she trained and who trained her and how long she’d been training, but he was too on edge. He’d already sent a message asking Jarek and Fallon to meet him at the arenas because he really needed to get out some aggression.
So instead of doing any of that, he simply said, “Go change.”
“I train in this,” she answered with a shrug.
She trained in a dress?
Nevermind. He wasn’t about to stand here and argue with her. If she wanted to train in a godsdamn dress, then so be it.
Extending his hand, she took it without a flinch or wince. It hadn’t escaped him how comfortable she’d become around him these last months. He should feel some sort of way about that. A sense of accomplishment. She trusted him, at least to some extent, and that had always been his goal.
The issue was now convoluted by this mess with Wren. They should be two separate things, completely independent of each other, but they weren’t. Somehow, he’d come tocarefor the queen in the same way he cared about Wren. At some point, she’d become his as much as Wren was, and now Wren would be leaving him alone. Moving on to someone else.
Not that she’d talked to him about it yet.
His meeting with Bram had been nearly a week ago, and as far as he knew, the male hadn’t approached Wren yet. If Razik had to guess, he was waiting until the Summer Solstice Festival in two days. It was cliche and stupid and exactly what Wren deserved.
The rational side of him knew change was inevitable. They were immortal. Things couldn’t stay the same for hundreds of years. But the irrational side of him didn’t want to admit that he hated it. So instead of dealing with any of that bullshit, he was going to spar with Jarek and Fallon, seeking a different kind of pain and adrenaline to kill the sense of inadequacy and abandonment trying to climb up from the depths of his soul where he kept those useless emotions buried.
The sun was high, the air hot even in the mountains when they appeared in the stone training arena. It was circular with a dirt floor, large enough for a hundred warriors to easily train without it being too tight, and there were several dozen here. Some training on their own, others new warriors being led through drills.
He immediately recognized Fallon’s laugh, following the sound to find her bouncing around on her toes and evadingJarek’s strikes. She ducked, swiping out with her foot as she did, but Jarek jumped, reaching to grab her ankle. His fingers grazed her boot, but he didn’t catch her in time. The males of the Cadre may have the bulk, but the females were far faster with less body mass.
“I would like to join them,” Kailia said matter-of-factly from his side.
He glanced down at her, her eyes swirling so fast that the grey was almost eclipsing the amber color. She was excited about this, he realized. She was a stabby, sadistic little thing. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he felt a twinge of guilt at not realizing this would have secured her trust a lot faster.
No.
Not guilt.
Annoyance.
And guilt, he supposed. Annoyance because it would have made things a whole lot easier, and guilt because she likely needed to expend her own pent-up aggression, especially with not being able to move through her magic. Something he still hadn’t figured out. The new theory he’d come up with was her proximity to something—like not being able to Travel when the phantoms were present—but he had yet to come up with what the trigger could be for her magic. There wasn’t a common presence when she’d tried to move in her magic. Fuck, she couldn’t even do so in her dreams.
“Fuck, Greybane,” Jarek jeered, pulling Razik from his thoughts. “You look like you want to hit something. Or someone.”
“I do,” Razik replied, pulling his tunic over his head and tossing it aside. Stretching his neck to the left, then to the right, he added, “The queen would also like to spar.”
“We’re not sparring with the queen,” Jarek said immediately.
“I don’t object,” Kailia protested, eyeing the warrior.
“With all due respect, your Majesty, if I lay a hand on you, I will face your husband.”
Kailia’s lips pursed, fingers flexing at her sides. “I will handle Cethin if it comes to that.”
“Nope. I refuse,” Jarek said, crossing his arms in emphasis.
“You refuse an order from your queen?” she asked, and while Razik knew it was pure curiosity and not an affront, it had the desired effect of making the male hesitate.
“If you’re going to be insistent, spar with Fallon,” Jarek offered, gaze flicking to the female.
“Way to throw me to the wolves,” she drawled, fixing her braid that had come loose.
Jarek winked at her. “We all know Cethin will handle the wolves.”
