My thoughts stutter. “So Rip isn’t for...ripping off heads?” I repeat lamely.
Lu shakes her head. “No, but that’s funny as shit. Does everyone in Sixth think that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just heard it somewhere.”
“Divine, no wonder Midas’s guards nearly piss themselves every time you come around,” she laughs to Rip.
My shoulders stiffen as I round on him. “The guards? My guards?”
Black eyes flick over to me. “Midas’s guards, yes.”
I ignore his pointed correction. “I want to see them,” I say, taking a step forward as new desperation fills me.
He doesn’t even blink. “No.”
Anger makes my ribbons tighten. “Why not? You let me visit the saddles.”
“That’s different.”
“How?” I press.
“Because those soldiers were meant to serve as your protection, and they failed,” he says evenly, all amusement gone from his expression, the shadows seeming suddenly darker over his face. “They don’t deserve for you to visit them.”
My head jerks back. “Don’t talk about them that way. There was nothing they could’ve done against the Red Raids. I want to see them,” I demand, my glare daring him to deny me.
The other three grow quiet, and I can practically feel their gazes bouncing between Rip and me.
The commander takes a step forward, and I instantly back up a step. I tell myself it’s an automatic reaction because he has all those sharp spikes out, but really, he’s plenty intimidating even without them.
“Fine,” he says, surprising me.
I should’ve known better, though. Should’ve seen where this was going by the arrogant tilt of his mouth.
He leans in dangerously close. “If you want to see them that badly, then I guess you’d better get started,” he tells me, black eyes glinting. “Because like I said, you’re not leaving the circle until you fight.”
Chapter 24
AUREN
Rip circles me.
The highest spike between his shoulder blades juts up like the fin of a shark breaking the surface of the water.
The other three have squared off against each other, every man and woman for herself, fighting like it’s their favorite game as they trade insults and goad one another.
But I can only pay attention to them for the barest of moments in my peripheral vision, because I know better than to take my eye off the male stalking me.
The bonfire is to my left, draping a blanket of orange over the snowy ground, casting everything in fiery light.
“You still look scared,” Rip says as he comes to a stop in front of me.
“I’d be stupid not to be.”
I don’t care if he really doesn’t rip people’s heads off. He’s still a killer. Still capable of cutting down armies and slaying kingdoms. His entire body sings with strength. I can almost hear the vibrato of violence as it hums through his veins.
“You’re right.” He shrugs off his fitted leather coat and drops it to the ground. My heart starts to pound.
His eyes stroke over the length of my body, probably to set me even more on edge. “Do you want to take off your feathers, Goldfinch?”