“Okay, so that’s most people. What about me?”
Braxton shrugs. “Arthur’s got you on an accelerated schedule, so you can probably expect a meeting any day now. Thing is,” he adds, “you won’t be traveling anywhere until you master some skills.”
I watch as he grabs a sword from a glass container by the door. I guess I was so entranced by the view, I failed to notice anything else.
I glance between the sword and him. “This hardly seems like a fair fight,” I say, nodding toward the length of his blade, which is so much longer than mine.
“It’s not meant to be,” he says. “Mainly because it’s a lesson.” His gaze squares on mine in a way that sends a shiver racing straight down my spine.
“So, you’re actually serious about teaching me? Here? In this all-glass room?” Another quick look around leaves me wondering if this might actually be a terrible idea.
I mean, just how thick are those panes, anyway?
Braxton positions himself before me, his stormy blue gaze locking onto mine as the sharpened edge of his weapon glints under the moonlit sky.
“Let’s go,” he says.
And before I have a chance to react, Braxton’s blade is swinging straight for my neck.