Page 105

He shakes his head at the little girl and scolds her with a finger. From this distance, I can’t hear what he’s saying. But he gently corrects her posture, shows her how to flick her wrist, and hands the branch back to her, pointing at his thigh. She freezes, and he stabs his finger into his leg again. She rears back and smacks the branch into his leg, his face tensing in pain as he nods in approval. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder toward a group of other kids, and she sprints off, waving the branch with a shriek as the group of kids disperses.

So, he will gladly train a five year old. But he refused to train Archie and the rest of us? Where it could mean life or death? While the sentiment of the first scenario is admittedly sweet, the rest is infuriating.

Why doesn’t he want to train us?

Darian perches his feet up on top of the table, leans back, and lifts the front legs of his chair off the ground. He hooks one arm back behind his head and takes another pull from his flask.

My eyes narrow, and I storm toward him. His gaze darts over to me, and his eyes playfully pick me apart from head to toe. The corner of his lips perk up in a crooked grin, but as I close the distance between us, his attention flits away. As if he couldn’t be any less interested in me. The way he flips back and forth so easily between two extremes is enough to give me whiplash.

He sighs in exasperation. “I’m busy right now. Can I ignore you another time?”

I glare down at him. “No. I need to talk to you.”

He sneers, examining his nails. “Afraid to break it to you, but I’ve never been a conversationalist. I’m sure your golden-haired boy can be of use, for once. That kid never stops talking.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t even start—”

“Run along now.” He ushers me away with a flick of his wrist.

I snatch a fistful of his shirt and yank him forward to have his chair rest all four legs on the ground.

“What the hell?” he growls and tears my fist from his shirt.

“I need a moment alone with you. Take me to your room,” I hiss. Admittedly, it’s the wrong choice of words…but it’s too late.

He blinks back surprise, which melts into a sinful lick of his lips as he smiles.

“Shut up,”I spit.

He snickers. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but it’s what you’re thinking.”

He tilts his head dramatically to the side, his brown hair sweeping into his brow. “Oh? And you know what I’m thinking, now?”

I roll my eyes, gritting out each word through clenched teeth, “Just take me to your room.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He swings his feet underneath him, standing in one eager and swift motion.

As we duck into Darian’s room, I scan around the cluttered mess. He still hasn’t bothered to tidy up since the last time I was here. Though, I suppose it is an accurate depiction of the man dwelling here: messy and chaotic.

My gaze skitters over to the map still pinned under books on his desk. At this angle, I can’t study it long enough to decipher it while being discreet.

“So…you have me. Alone, in my room.” He grins. “Did you want me to make the first move?”

The only logical way to deal with Darian, I’m beginning to realize, is to ignore his antics completely. “I need you to train Archie.”

Darian snorts. “Ha! Such demands from someone who has nothing to offer me.”

“Well then, what is it you want?”

“World domination.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms, shifting my weight onto my left leg. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

We stare at each other, and I wait for him to finally admit what it is he wants. But he confesses nothing.