“Yes, they were!”
“They disobeyed orders, ignored the wisdom of all who had come before them, and stole from their commander. Do you really think they were worthy of serving the Goddess?”
Jathalion blinked rapidly. “They made a hasty, stupid decision based on their burning desire to help our world. The Goddess would know that. She didn't reject them.”
“But I never trained or took the fruit, and when I died, she accepted me.”
“So, you're saying the whole group was unworthy?”
“Taroc said the entire group before his failed, and he was the only man in his group to live. He said it's more common for men to fail than succeed.”
Jathalion stepped back.
“And you know that better than most.” I shook my head at him. “And yet, you blame me for their deaths. Fucking get over it!” I stepped forward and put my finger in his face. “I am so glad you're too fucked up to want to commit to me. Soooo glad! Bringing you into our group would have been a huge mistake. The Goddess must have been watching over me. Guiding me. She may find you worthy of being a Wraith Lord, but I don't find you worthy of being mine.”
Jathalion gaped at me as I spun around and stormed downstairs.
Chapter Thirteen
I was smiling by the time I reached the entry hall. Focused on my triumph over Jathalion, I didn't notice that someone was standing to the side of the stairs.
A hand grabbed my wrist and spun me. I impacted with a hard chest, the smell of rosemary shot up my nose, and I had a glimpse of Taroc's gorgeous face before his lips were on mine. Groaning, I clutched at his chest, learning the lines of his sculpted muscles by feel. Great Goddess, there was something wondrous about a big man. Being enveloped by him. Surrounded by strength. Knowing he could crush me if he wanted to, but instead, he chose the opposite—to pleasure me. Oh, yes, the pleasure.
Taroc growled into our kiss and brought his hands to my ass. Kneading me there, he undulated his hips, teasing me with the bulge in his pants. His lips were firm, unrelenting. His tongue was hot and alluring. He didn't taste like strawberries anymore, but I liked this flavor even better. Fresh mint and man. This was Taroc—a bold, primal, stab to my senses.
But I drew back for a few reasons. The first was that I wasn't ready to go further with him. The second was where we were—in public. And then there was our game.
“I've got to go. They're waiting on me,” I said.
“Not yet.” He pulled me closer.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” someone snarled. “You're already fucking him?”
Holy shit, it was Jathalion. Again. He stormed down the stairs, sneering at me and Taroc.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Taroc eased me behind him as if Jathalion were a threat.
He was certainly acting like one.
“You told him that men die more often than pass the test?” Jathalion said it more like an accusation than a question.
Taroc glanced at me.
“Sorry. I ran into him while coming downstairs, and he was a dick.”
“Don't apologize,” Taroc said. “I just wanted to know why you had to say that to him.” Then he focused on Jathalion again. “It's the truth, Lord Jathalion. I shouldn't have to tell you that. As a trainer, you know it as fact. And yet, you placed the blame on an innocent man rather than those men or yourself.”
“Myself?!”
“You were their trainer, right?” Taroc leaned forward aggressively. “Either they or you were lacking. Probably both.”
“Do you really think you can intimidate me, Lord Taroc?” Jathalion narrowed his eyes. “I've put down Tytra before.”
“In training,” Taroc scoffed. “No magic allowed and no dragon form. And you've never gone against me. Shall we give it a go?”
“Oh, I would love to,” Jathalion snarled.
Before I could protest, Jathalion swung. It was a shitty move, to start a fight—an agreed-upon fight, not a street fight—without warning. But the blow barely moved Taroc's head. Instead of bleeding, the Tytra Lord chuckled. Then he lunged for Jathalion.
