Chapter 166. Break
Maisie
"Hayes. Burke. Go," Instructor Warren blew on his whistle, and I watched them circle each other in the ring, before Cole moved first, driving his fist up through Burke’s gut.
I winced at the sound of bones breaking. Sometimes, I wondered if Combat was just Instructor Warren’s way of pitting us against each other to vent out his own frustration. I swore the highest casualties Ashbourne saw on a daily basis came from these classes.
And I was about to become one.
Because Ryder–freaking–Hunt was standing on my right, waiting out our turn as we were next to go. I now wished I had just stayed back home like a normal person after a stressful trip, but the overachiever in me had reared her head.
Well. That wasn’t the real reason.
I fled from the mansion because staying meant... I didn’t know what staying meant.
I didn’t know what it meant to wake up in our home now that the ice between us was somewhat... broken. I didn’t know what to do with the line of demarcation still running down the apartment, mocking me. Or the constant humming of need under my skin, keeping me endlessly aware that they were just on the other side of the house.
Worse yet, I had the sudden thought of making them breakfast.
It horrified me so much, I got into the shower, dressed up earlier than I should’ve and ran the entire way to school.
I didn’t know how to be a wife. I didn’t even think I was cut out for that role. Goddess, I couldn’t believe I was even having this train of thought. Whatever happened to being a career woman?
My mind was so far away, my fingers fiddling with the necklace around my neck that I didn’t hear Instructor Warren call out my name the first time, until Regina poked me in the same moment he barked out my last name a little harder. "Adams. Get your head out of the clouds and get on the darned ring."
Soft laughter rippled through the crowd as I pulled away from the crowd and walked ahead, trying to shake off the anxiety I felt upon seeing Ryder already in the ring, taking off his shirt slowly as he ran his eyes along my body with a coy smile.
No one else had wanted to stand by my side on the line.
While it had boosted my ego a little bit that this time, everyone was choosing to steer clear of me because the last time I’d been in a fight, I’d beaten Cole to a pulp, Warren–the sadist–had thought it would be good to pair Lycan against Lycan.
A fantastic demonstration of strength and speed, he’d said.
I stepped onto the ring and I stood squarely on the ball of my feet, my heart rate slowly picking, even as I willed myself to stay calm.
Ryder began circling me. He was shirtless up his bare torso and covered in just as many tattoos as Bastian, who was watching us below the ring with Kisten. While he was nowhere near as bulky as Kisten, he was still a rather large man, more than twice my weight size.
This didn’t even feel like a fair fight.
I remembered what fighting Kisten had been like. What losing had felt like. And how pathetic I’d felt, even if Quinlan explained that Kisten was a warrior who had been learning to fight since he could talk.
I knew from the same mad look in Ryder’s eyes that it was likely the same case with him.
His tongue darted out to lick his lips around a coy smile. "You’re a hard woman to track down, Maisie Adams."
"Stalk, you mean," I said.
He lunged at me the moment Warren’s whistle blew.
I shuffled sideways, ducking under the blow with barely an inch to spare. Ryder grinned, excitement lighting up those piercing blue eyes like a predator who had just scented blood. "Last I checked, you have a thing for stalkers. Who knows... I just might get lucky and be the next one you spread your legs for."
The crude taunt barely registered before he came at me again.
I feinted left and drove my fist straight into the bastard’s face.
The impact jolted up my arm. Ryder staggered back a step, blood trickling from his split lip, but that savage gleam in his eyes only sharpened. Instead of slowing him down, the hit seemed to fuel him and he began attacking without pause.
I was strong. Ryder was stronger. I was trained. Ryder fought like a raging bull with no off switch. There was no technique to predict, no weakness to exploit.
Pain erupted across my body in rapid fire. A brutal punch to my ribs, a wrench down my arm, nearly taking it out its socket, a knee slamming into my thigh. He forced me into a wicked dance I couldn’t break out of where I found myself blocking, shielding, unable to land one clean blow. My sheens burned. My ribcage screamed. My arms and shoulders throbbed from the constant barrage.
Then, without warning, the ground disappeared beneath me.
Ryder tackled me hard, driving me into the dirt with his full weight. The air exploded out of my lungs in a painful whoosh. Before I could recover, he pinned me down, knees braced on either side of my hips, one massive hand locking both of my wrists beside me.
I thrashed wildly, fury and panic surging through me. "Get off me!"
I drove my knee up hard between his legs, aiming for his balls with everything I had.
Ryder snarled, pain flashing across his face, but he didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, his hold tightened, pressing me deeper into the ground until I could barely breathe.
"Nice try," he growled, voice rough with both pain and dark amusement. His face hovered inches above mine, blue eyes burning like the devil’s. "But I’ve always liked my women better when they’re pinned beneath me, all soft and breathless. So why don’t you stay right here on your back where you belong, like the good little ray of sunshine you are?"
I bucked and twisted beneath him, muscles straining, but he was too heavy, too strong. His body was a wall of solid muscle and raw power, completely unyielding. "This is what your mother teaches you? How to manhandle women? Good to see I didn’t miss any of that special upbringing–"
Ryder’s hand slapped around my neck and white exploded in my skull when he smacked my head into the ground. My vision blackened at the edges, but not enough to hide the vicious anger that twisted his face. "Don’t fucking talk about our mother like that," he hissed under his breath.
"Your mother," I wheezed, even as I felt all the blood rush to my head. "My mother is dead, no thanks to yours!"
"If the Omega wench was too weak to survive the death of her thieving, traitor of a mate, that is hardly any of our faults–"
I slammed my forehead into his nose and he broke off with a growl and the world went temporarily black when he strangled me even harder. "They’ve brainwashed you with their stupid lies, their huge castles and their pretty faces, haven’t they?"
"If you’re so jealous of their pretty faces, then maybe you should consider getting surgery to fix yours," I shot back, even if it was stupid to banter with him.
But he continued like I hadn’t even spoken. "You truly think you’re safer with them?"
"I don’t think it," I forced out. "I know it. Anything is better than being the child of a woman who would kill innocents and children for her own gain."
"And does this apply to Silas, too, or are you just a sweet, little hypocrite like your father was? Mrs. Goody Two-Shoes who fancies herself better than everyone else?"
When I didn’t respond, he leaned even closer, sniffing along the column of my neck like a predator savoring its prey. His voice turned into a dark whisper that sent ice down my spine.
"Let me tell you this, sister. So long as you have Hunt blood running through your veins, you have the same thing we all do inside you. The thing that makes us strive. The thing that makes us stand up over and over, rather than lay down and die like they expect us to.
"You think you got that from your father? You are your mother’s daughter through and through. A hunter. Why do you think the imposter Queen did everything in her power to get rid of us?"
I froze for a moment. Then figured he was spitting nonsense. I twisted, trying to dislodge his grip. "Maybe because your mother murdered her sister and her mates and then attempted to murder her nephew?"
A wry smile kicked up the corners of Ryder’s mouth. "We were next in line for the throne. Think of who had the most to gain from the death of the previous Queen and our banishment and you will find that there is always a different side to the story." He licked his fang. "As for Soren Black, he was in the way. And now, so are you."
My eyes widened. The threat was very, very real. He was trying to pop my head off my shoulders.
"Break," said Instructor Warren, the whistle going off, when I began thrashing in earnest.
"Don’t look so frightened, sister," my half-brother whispered against my cheek. "If Mother wanted you dead, you wouldn’t still be breathing."
He laughed a little. "No. Mother thinks you might still be useful yet. Funny how fate works, isn’t it? After years of trying to get rid of us, a Black places his crown in the hands of a Hunt." A claw poised at my pounding pulse. "You are exactly where you need to be, and when the time comes, because it will come soon, you will aid our cause. Whether you want to, or not. So, enjoy your time with them, princess. However long it lasts before you become their ruin."
My stomach dropped. What did... what did that mean? Being exactly where she wanted me to be... My chest tightened. Was I a pawn? I’d always been a pawn to Margaret Hunt, but this...
Become their ruin.
What did that even mean?
No. I couldn’t let him get into my head or under my skin by planting seeds in my mind. That was one thing Ryder excelled greatly at.
"Break," Instructor Warren yelled again.
Ryder raised his head and ever so slightly and a wicked smile edged his mouth. "Your pretty boy has arrived." He cocked his head. "In that case, I shall leave you with a parting gift. For saving our dear sister’s life."
And then, Ryder pressed his mouth to mine.