The cocky bastard really had the nerve to challenge me like that with his back turned, striding into my living room with casual confidence, like he already owned the damn place.
So really, I could not be blamed for my behavior.
Acting upon pent-up frustration and immature impulse, I launched myself at Kieran’s back, attempting to jump-tackle him to the ground. Emphasis onattempt,because it had been hubris to think I had any hopes of overpowering this mountain of a man. He hardly even staggered as I wrapped my thighs around his torso, my arms around his neck.
Curse this man and his alarming amount of strength and balance.
“Hello there, Little Conduit,” he laughed, all of the acerbic tension between us seeming to melt away. “Is this how you prove you hate me?”
“Yes,” I replied primly, unable to formulate a proper argument.
It was that low rasp and rolling thunder beneath his breath…It did my head in, every godsdamned time, and it was even worse now that I couldfeelit with my chest pressed up against his back.
“You know, I’m not thoroughly convinced,” Kieran purred, sliding his hands backward to grip at my thighs, one of them traveling upwards to cup my ass cheek and squeeze with vicious affection.
I eyed the spot between his neck and his shoulders, that flexing corner of sinew where the tendrils of his tattoos crept across golden skin. Again, on impulse, I leaned forward and bit down.
His grip on my ass and thigh tightened.
“That,” Kieran choked out, “is not having the effect you’re intending, sweetheart.”
I took that as a challenge to bite down even harder. What did he know about my intentions?
“Fuuucking Hel,” he swore, though the sound was a smidge too guttural, too appreciative for my liking. I was trying towoundthe man right now, or at the very least, irritate the shit out of him. I wasn’t trying to turn him on.
Okay, fine. That was another lie.
Turning Kieran Vistarii on had quickly become my new favorite hobby.
And I wassogodsdamn good at it.
DAY SIX
OF BRUISES & BITEMARKS
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KIERAN
Iscowled to myself, watching the seconds tick by on the clock above my door at Elder Guard headquarters. Kicking my feet up on my desk, I used the edge of a knife to clear the grit from beneath my fingernails, wishing this morning would justhurry the fuck upand give way to a far more pleasant afternoon.
Arken had left my arms around ten this morning, and loath as I was to admit it, I was almost angry with her for leaving.
Almost.I wasn’t that much of a bastard.
Even so, it had been torture to let her go.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna skip class tomorrow, Little Conduit?” I asked her last night, mostly teasing. “I’m sure we could get Fen to write you a note and get you out of exams for another week or two…”
“Tempting,” she’d sighed in my arms. “So very tempting, but no. I can’t. Even if I did skip the exam, I can’t miss tomorrow’s lecture.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
Arken had proceeded to explain, in great detail, how she had developed an academic rapport with Scholar Ezra Thompson after a lecture in the Irrosi Arboretum, bonding over their mutual fascination withmajestic mycelium.As it turned out, her enthusiasm had earned her a rare offering: a small-group lecture with Scholar Larkin and Scholar Thompson today, followed by a private tour of the Arboretum’s research facilities, delving deeper into the cutting-edge work that Ezra was doing on behalf of the Studium’s Bios department.
“Larkin says they put together a whole presentation for me,” she had sighed. “I would feel like such an asshole if I didn’t show. I can’t waste their time and efforts like that. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Of course,” I’d murmured. “I understand.”