He muttered a curse, hand moving to shield the area as he dropped his shirt back down. Jaw set, he focused on me. “You didn't see anything.”
I scoffed. “I definitely did.”
He scowled, eyes glittering. “You didn't.”
My brain put the puzzle pieces together. “That'sanotherunsanctioned Skinscript glyph,” I stated.
His eyes narrowed. “And if it is?”
“You’re unbelievable.” I narrowed my eyes. “You said you didn’t know anything about Skinscript just appearing.”
“Who said these just appeared?” he fired back.
These, plural?
Who knew what glyphs they were, they could be anything. Likely far more useful than the one that made our heartbeats sync. And from his reaction, no one knew about these glyphs, either. The sheer possibilities of having concealed power like that made me dizzy.
My gaze rose to meet his. “I want to know who gave them to you. Because I want some, too.”
His mouth opened, then quickly shut it. I could practically see the gears turning behind darkening eyes. He let out a long sigh. “I’m your instructor–”
I scoffed. “When has that mattered?”
He eyed me warily, eyes dark. “It has mattered since day one, more so now than ever. You’d have to get them in a...private location where no one’ll see it.”
Well, duh. These were highly illegal. “Agreed,” I said aloud.
“And the only way I'll even consider this, is if you swear on your life that you’ll never speak of any of this again, toanyone.” His tone had taken on that threatening edge that made me shiver.
“Deal,” I said without hesitating. It was basically the same deal we’d made at the cliff, just now covering more than one illegal Skinscript glyph. “And I want five glyphs.” His eyebrows drew together but I pressed on before he could argue. “You obviously have more than one, if I can see them above the hem of your pants. At least six. I want five.”
“No deal.”
“Four then.”
“Two,” he growled at me. “And you don't choose the glyphs. That's me being generous.”
“Three,” I shot back. “And I choose one of them. And you have to explain to me what each of yours do.”
His eyes narrowed as he ran a hand through his hair. I returned his hard stare. His frustration was thick enough to taste in the air that hovered between us. I licked my lips, suddenly nervous.
After what felt like eternity, he finally nodded. My heart leapt and a giddy grin split my face.
The power to choose one of the glyphs I’d get was heady. From any of the known Skinscript glyphs, no less. Sure, I didn't know more than the few that Instructor Garcien had shown us, but Zevrial had more Skinscript than anyone I'd ever met. Once he explained them, I'd be able to choose the best one. Something that could protect me from Nikolach, or ever having to return to the Reformatory. Or something that could let me escape if I ever had to go back. Maybe there was a glyph strong enough to helpme protect myself and my loved ones from being put into that position again.
I reined in my whirling thoughts, remembering that Zevrial was still bleeding from my punch. Before I could think to stop myself, I reached out and lifted the edge of his shirt up. Hard flesh brushed the knuckle of my thumb. His breath caught, and my heart stuttered.
“I assume you did this bandage up yourself, since it’s so close to that Skinscript?”
His gaze was on fire as I glanced up at him. “Mhm.”
I studied the bandage. Only a small amount of blood was leaking, one or two torn stitch's worth at most, in a line of at least twelve stitches to cover the length of the gash. I swallowed as I noticed the taut muscle underneath the bandage.
“I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were injured when I hit you. Why did you ask me to hit you?”
“I didn’t think you could.”
Was it too late to rescind my apology?
