Page 69 of The Vampire Court
True, we haven’t actually trained since the first few days here, and so much has happened since then. I hardly see him anymore, and I have to wonder if that will change because of the mark.
Cassius watches me closely.
I shift under the weight of his gaze. “Why are you doing this? This doesn’t seem like… you.”
He steps closer. “You hardly know me, Miss Valmont. How can you presume to know if this islike meor not?”
He has a point.
“Then whyareyou doing this?” I ask again.
“I have my—”
I cut a hand through the air. “Forget it. If you’re going to give me the same non-answer, you might as well save your breath.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Do you want me to train you or not? Because I can guarantee that Alaric’s mark isn’t enough to stop others from trying to kill you.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek, debating. On the one hand, it would be stupid to refuse. On the other, he’s not Alaric, and that bothers me more than it should.
Cassius circles around to the weapons, picking one up, examining it then setting it back down.
“All right,” I relent. Weariness from the day settles heavily between my shoulders. I don’t want to argue anymore with anyone. I turn and trudge toward the door. “You can train me, but I’m tired and want to—”
“Dodge,” Cassius’s voice booms from the far end of the room.
I scrunch my brows, not understanding as I turn back toward him. It takes entirely too long to process the lightning-quick movement of his hand as he lifts something. Firelight glints off polished metal.
I feel the whoosh of air and the sharp sting on my ear before I can react. The thunk of a weapon comes from behind as it embeds itself in the wooden door at my back.
Clapping my hand to my ear, I drop down into a crouch, hissing through my teeth. I look at my hand. Blood coats my fingertips.
Cassius’s boots stop inches in front of me. He kneels and roughly tilts my head to the side, prodding at my ear to assess the damage.
“You can’t trust anyone, and you must always be ready,” he scolds.
“We’ve already established that I don’t trust you.” I suck in a sharp breath as he presses his palm to my ear.
Red light encircles his eyes as he pulls his power to him then into my injury. Like the last time he healed me, it burns like hot metal on skin, though the pain seems distant, less intense than last time. Cassius releases me before I can pull away.
He holds his hand out to me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet. I tug on my hand. “You have a really bad habit of holding on too long.”
“And you have a bad habit of walking away when we aren’t finished,” he retorts, relinquishing my hand.
With a hand on my lower back, he guides me from the training room and out into the hall. We walk in silence as he leads me the way I’d come with Alaric that first day. Instead of continuing to the third floor, he guides us out into the servants’ wing.
Cassius gestures toward a door. “I will come for you every morning, and we will train for three hours before breakfast.”
“No,” I say when I recognize the door. “I’m with Alaric. He marked me.”
“I am sorry, Clara, but you are to stay here.” He averts his gaze, and to his credit, he seems genuinely sorry. “Queen’s orders.”
I shake my head, mumbling under my breath, “The mark was supposed to fix things.”
“Usually, it would,” he says. Lowering his voice, he inches closer, too close. I feel suffocated by his presence—trapped between him and the wall. “Elizabeth may have allowed Alaric to fully mark you and to stay with him last night, but that is where her generosity ends. The consequences of doing other than what I tell you to will send you back to the dungeon, and that’s if you’re lucky enough to live.”
“This is your reason,” I say, and it’s not a question.
Cassius nods, reaching around me to open the door to the tiny room. Without another word, he turns away, and in the blink of an eye, he is on the far end of the hall.