“I’ve done my job.” I vaguely pointed toward a window, toward the scar in the middle of S’Kir. “Now what? I sit around being pampered? The three of you fucking me so you have power?”
“Kimber,” Rilen said.
I whirled on him. “You forget the power flows both ways?”
“No, no, that’s not it,” he said. “You are the Breaker. We don’t know what your destiny is.”
“So I sit around eating bonbons, hoping we can figure out what I’m supposed to do next before my ass melds with the couch?”
“You’re not going,” Dorian said again.
“I’m sure I am. You already won’t let me take the shield.”
“We haven’t needed you,” Roran said.
I could feel my anger raising my magic in my eyes. I was sure they were glowing gold as Dorian’s had. “You have needed me. It’s only been a week off my crutches, and I’ve seen how drained, how close to dead you all are when you come off the shield. And if you won’t let me take the shield, then I’m going on the raid.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rilen traded a look with his twin.
“One or the other. Give me the shield, or I go on the raid.” I folded my arms and stared at the three of them.
Dorian stared back at me. “Neither.”
“Then why did you name me to the dais?” I picked up the bowl on the table and hurled it at the wall, smashing it. “What am I doing here? What is the point of having me wear the robes? If you wanted me in your bed, you could have just brought me here.”
They were silent again, all exchanging looks that were loaded with meaning, and meaning that they weren’t sharing with me.
I threw my hands in the air. “If you need me, or decide to talk to me and let me know what the hell is going on, I’ll be in the practice room!”
Banging the doors open and slamming them behind me, I marched through the halls down to the practice room where Lunella and Mistress Ophelia were sparring.
Both women looked up at me and smiled.
“Mistress Kimber, a delight,” Lunella smiled, but half a moment later, her grin slid away. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to spar,” I answered.
Lunella walked to the wall of swords. “Ophelia, I do believe there’s trouble in paradise.”
“One of the best ways to work out anger is either to hit your bedmate upside the head with a cast iron skillet,” Mistress Ophelia said, “or walk away and take it out on something else.”
I nodded and accepted the sword from Lunella. “Cast iron sounds tempting, Mistress Ophelia.”
“Drop the mistress,” she said, hefting her sword, “and I’ll lend you the pan for Dorian.”
I laughed. I was still steaming mad, but at least they had talked me off the ledge. With the two of them, I was able to burn off a lot of my angry energy.
There would still be a fight to deal with tonight, though. Apparently, my mates thought I was stupid—or still too naïve to talk about their issue with me.
RILEN TRIED TO SITNEXT TO ME, but I slapped my book closed and moved to another seat. He let out a sigh and followed me.
I moved again.
He followed me again.
I moved again.
This time, he stood directly behind me, not allowing me to move.
