Page 33 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

He’s a terrible liar. The way his eyes darted when he answered my question and the twitch of his lips as he struggled to contain his giddy excitement remind me of a teenager losing his virginity for the first time.

It’s just sex. Getting your dick wet isn’t a revolutionary, heaven’s gates opening, or a symphony of angels’ experience. Even then, most men who fuck don’t know what a fucking clit⁠—

I sigh. Having no hunt is causing my mind to turn into fucking mush, and now I’m doing everything I can to stop myself from thinking about Pandora. I want to kill her, and I am fighting with myself to control the sudden urge.

To stop my thoughts, I stare at Walkyer and consider him entertainment.

“What?”

I arch my brow, and Walkyer must know I can see through his bullshit.

“Okay,”—Walkyer claps his hands together—“this may sound crazy, but I think I’ve found her.”

“Ah. So, you listened to what I said and lowered your standards?”

“No,” he snaps.

“Let me guess.” I grin at his clenched jaw. “She’s a water elemny, like you. She likes drinking water, as you do.”

“Reen.” Walkyer’s clasped hands clench tight until they redden.

“She likes taking long, cold baths, like you. She enjoys the rain and will dance in thunderstorms, just like you.”

“Shut up!” Walkyer points his finger at me and glowers. “It was one thunderstorm, and it was because Emmerton put drugs in the brownies!”

“Whatever you say,” I chuckle.

“And also…I don’t know what elemny she is,” he mumbles.

“What? You met her in the dark?” I give him a playful slap on the shoulder, my grin widening sadistically. “Look, when I said to lower your standards, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Fuck you!” he spits. Walkyer extends his arm in a desperate yet pathetic attempt to clock me in the jaw. Stepping back, I grab his arm, move it away from my face, and shove him until he stumbles to my right. Walkyer collapses on the steps, a red flush burning across his cheeks.

“It’s so easy to tease you,” I laugh.

“It’s why you don’t have friends, Reen,” Walkyer says.

“I never said I wanted friends.”

Silence hangs in the air.

Sighing, I step up and sit beside my younger, romantic, love-struck brother, who falls too hard, too fast. He flinches but doesn’t move away once he realises I won’t annoy him any longer. “Tell me about her,” I say.

“Well…I don’t know much,” he admits.

“What do you mean? Did you not talk to her?”

“I couldn’t. She was in a car with her friends. I just saw her in passing.”

“How do you know if she’s kind? How do you know if she’s caring?”

“Well, I think she’s shy,” Walkyer tries to justify. Of course he does. “But she must still be in the academy.”

“That’s promising,” I say drily. “A twenty-three-year-old crushing on an unawakened student.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Walkyer,” I sigh, “it doesn’t make it any better.”