Page 77

Thea’s face went bright red and she made a poor recovery. ‘Uh… Not exactly —’‘Alchemist.’ Thea turned to find the Warsword himself towering at her side, his jaw set, his powerful frame poised for battle, even now.

‘A word,’ he said.

Thea hated the command in his tone, hated that she was already moving with him, leaving her gobsmacked friends behind. She followed him into the fortress and down an unfamiliar passageway until he pulled her into a hidden alcove.

While Cal and Kipp hadn’t pressed her for information about the journey with the legendary warrior yet, this instance was sure to ignite their curiosities beyond repair.

But all thoughts emptied from her head as Hawthorne leaned against the stone wall and studied her in the same intense way he had when her skin had been bare.

‘Well?’

Thea tried to get control over her racing mind and thundering heart. ‘Well, what?’

‘I’m not the right mentor for you.’ His gaze never left hers.

Whatever she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. ‘I didn’t say you were…’ she replied slowly, putting the pieces together. ‘Did you think after last night I would come begging for a place as your apprentice?’

‘Begging? Not for that, no…’ His dimple showed.

Outraged, Thea’s mouth fell open. ‘You prick. I would never —’

‘What?Beg?’

Fury blazed in her veins. The audacity of this man was unparalleled. ‘Let’s get one thing clear,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I don’twant youas a mentor. You’re moody, unpredictable and —’

‘And what?’

Thea tried not to let herself get carried away. ‘Infuriating.’

‘That’s not what you were going to say.’

‘I’m not doing this dance.’

‘What dance is that?’

His rosewood soap tickled her nose and the Furies damn him, she almost leaned in. Steeling herself, she ignored his question. Instead, she folded her arms, desperate for any semblance of a barrier between them, desperate to forget that he’d seen her naked. ‘So we’re in agreement. I won’t nominate you as my mentor, happy?’

‘Not even close, Alchemist.’

‘What then?’ she bit back. ‘What would make you happy, Hawthorne?’

A charged silence lingered between them for a beat and Thea gazed upon the Warsword, unable to tame her pounding heart or the pulse of desire between her legs.

He seemed to sense it because, for a moment, his eyes dropped to her mouth.

‘I don’t intend to be a good mentor.’ His words only stoked her fury.

‘You’d rob a talented shieldbearer of the same opportunity you were given?’

He braced an arm against the wall above her and leaned in. ‘I would have been better off.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘I’d be a bad teacher,’ he told her, his face nearing hers. ‘I had a terrible example.’

‘So you’ve said,’ Thea replied coldly. ‘I’ll nominate Elderbrock then.’

‘He’s a good choice.’