The question caught me off guard. What did I want for Amelia? Someone who made her laugh the way she laughed when she thought no one was watching. Someone who appreciated her sharp wit and fierce independence instead of trying to suppress it. Someone who saw her as more than just a pretty face and a prestigious last name.
“Someone who actually wants to be with her,” I said finally. “Someone who sees her as a person, not a political alliance.”
Father leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp blue eyes. “And what about you, Archer? When the time comes for us to arrange your marriage, will you be equally resistant to family obligations?”
My stomach dropped. We’d never discussed my marriage prospects directly. I always figured, being the only son, I’d be able to choose my partner. But then again, the way things weregoing with my parents, I doubted they were going to open to the idea of a gay son. And if they found out what I’d done in Pigeon Forge less than twenty-four hours ago… well, let’s just say I probably wouldn’t be going back to college without an escort.
The question hung in the air between us, far heavier than I expected. I could feel my pulse quickening as I tried to figure out how to answer without revealing too much about myself. About what I really wanted. About the fact that I’d spent last night with another man’s dick in my ass and couldn’t stop thinking about doing it again.
“I...” I started, then stopped. The smart answer would be to say something about duty and family expectations. To assure him that when the time came, I’d be just as compliant as he wanted Amelia to be.
But the memory of amber eyes and skilled hands was still too fresh, too vivid. The way Valen had made me feel alive in a way I’d never experienced before. Free. Like I could be anyone I wanted to be instead of just the perfect Quinn heir.
“I think people should marry for love,” I said quietly, the words feeling both terrifying and liberating as they left my mouth.
Father’s expression didn’t change, but something cold flickered behind his eyes. “Love is a fairy tale, Archer. A luxury that families like ours cannot afford.”
“Don’t you and Mother love one another?” I asked. It sounded deeply childish the moment the words left my lips.
“No,” he replied definitively. Then his expression shifted, melancholy seeping in at the edges. “Maybe we did once…” He shook his head. “This isn’t about us. This is about you and Amelia. And both of you, by your twenty-fifth birthday, will be married even if I have to bind you myself.” He waved a hand at me dismissively. “And if you start spreading lies about your sister again, I will do far more than that. Now go.”
I could see that steely look in his eyes again. He was unreachable. So, instead of trying to argue or plead, I just stood up and left the room.
Maybe it was a good thing my amber-eyed stranger could never find me again. If my father ever found out I’d gotten involved with a human, Valen might just disappear forever. At least, without me around, he’d be safe.
As for me though… well, it looked like I wasn’t going to have much choice in anything when it came to living my own life. And neither was Amelia.
Chapter 7
Valen
Istood in the middle of the fencing salle, suited up with my mask already on, as the students filtered into the room. It was a big dramatic, but I did it every year. I found that students, when they couldn’t see my face, fought harder during tryouts. They couldn’t rely on facial expressions or try to read my mood, which meant they had to focus purely on technique and instinct.
I’d spent the morning setting up the equipment and reviewing the roster. Twenty-three students had signed up for tryouts, which was more than I’d expected. Most were returning team members, but there were a handful of new faces that caught my attention.
“Welcome to fencing tryouts,” I called out, my voice slightly muffled by the mask but carrying clearly across the salle. “I’m Professor Crowe, and I’ll be your coach this season. For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been fencing for... a very long time.”
A few chuckles rippled through the group. If only they knew just how long.
“Today’s tryouts will consist of three parts,” I continued, pacing in front of the assembled students. In the back I noticedLila sitting in the shadows, her purple eyes following me. “First, individual skill assessment. I’ll be testing each of you personally to gauge your current level and technique. Second, sparring matches between candidates. And third...” I paused for dramatic effect. “A special challenge.”
I could see them exchanging glances, curiosity and nervousness radiating from the group in waves that my enhanced senses picked up easily.
“Whoever can successfully unmask me during our individual bout will automatically become team captain,” I announced. “No questions asked, no further evaluation needed.”
The silence that followed was telling. Some looked intrigued, others intimidated. A few of the returning students who knew my reputation were already shaking their heads.
“Now, before we begin, let me be clear about expectations,” I said, selecting a sabre from the equipment rack with deliberate precision. “This team represents Widdershins Academy at the highest levels of collegiate competition. I expect discipline, dedication, and absolute commitment to excellence. If you’re here because you think fencing is an easy way to fulfill your athletic requirement, there’s the door.”
Nobody moved.
“Excellent.” I turned back to face them, the familiar weight of the weapon in my hand centering me. “We’ll start with individual assessments. When I call your name, step forward and show me what you’ve got.”
I consulted the roster, though I’d already memorized every name. “R. Smith.”
A petite junior with short black hair stepped forward, selecting her weapon with confident movements. I’d coached her last year. She was technically proficient but lacked the killer instinct needed for real competition.
“En garde,” I called, falling into position.
