Page 71 of Vicious Kings
"Why not?" He's closer now, having crossed half the room while I was focused on not setting things on fire with my mind. "You were a hunter, after all. Surely you learned some defensive techniques before they learned what you are?" The challenge hangs in the air along with that wicked smirk of his.
The trap is obvious. If I fight, I reveal too much. If I don't, I look pathetic. Either way, he wins.
But two can play this game.
I stand, setting my notebook aside. "What did you have in mind, Your Highness?"
His smile widens. "A simple exercise. I'll attempt to approach you. You'll use whatever means necessary to maintain your distance."
"Without weapons?" I gesture to the empty space between us.
"Omegas rarely have weapons at their disposal," he points out. "Better to learn how to defend yourself with what you have."
Which is absolutely nothing. Perfect.
"Fine." I move to the center of the room, where there's more space. The other students shift their chairs back, creating an impromptu arena. Great. Now I have an audience for my humiliation.
Corvinus circles me slowly, and I track his movement with my eyes. Predator assessing prey. Or maybe the other way around. Hard to tell anymore.
"Whenever you're ready, Miss Moreau," Drakiss says, and there's something in his tone that suggests he's going to enjoy this, for all his appearance of protest. He may be a professor, but Corvinus is clearly the one calling the shots here.
Corvinus moves.
Fast. Faster than I expected, even knowing what he is. One second he's five feet away, the next he's closing the distance with the kind of speed that would make most humans freeze.
But I'm not most humans.
My body reacts before my brain catches up. Step left, drop low, use his momentum against him. Basic defensive maneuvers drilled into me since I could walk. He adjusts mid-strike, his hand catching my wrist instead of empty air.
Shit.
His grip is iron, pulling me forward and off-balance. But I've trained with partners stronger than me my entire life. I let myself fall into the pull, using it to get closer instead of farther. My free hand goes for his eyes, fingers curved into claws.
He catches that wrist too, now holding both my hands. We're close enough that I can see the flecks of silver in those blue eyes, smell that starlight scent that makes my inner omega purr.
Fuck. Focus.
I bring my knee up, aiming for the weak spot between his legs that's universal to all male anatomy. He blocks with his thigh, twisting so I'm suddenly off-balance again.
The world tilts. My back hits the floor hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Corvinus follows me down, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand while the other presses against my collar bone, holding me in place.
"Yield," he says softly. Not a bark, not quite, but unmistakably a command. Devoid of alpha dominance, yet just as compelling to my omega hindbrain that's begging for a DIY lobotomy at this point.
Like hell.
I wrap my legs around his waist, using core strength to buck him off. It should work. It's worked on training partners twice his size. But he doesn't budge, just presses down harder, his weight keeping me pinned. And now his cock is pressed against my crotch, making it clear where the size of his ego comes from.
"I said yield, Miss Moreau."
"Fuck. You."
He laughs, and the sound vibrates through me in ways that are absolutely not appropriate for a combat demonstration. "Such language. What would Madame Loriyne say?"
"She'd probably tell you to get off me before I bite your fucking throat out."
"Would you?" His face is inches from mine, and I hate how my heart is racing for all the wrong reasons at the rush of his cool breath against my lips. "I'd like to see you try."
For one insane moment, I consider it. Sinking my teeth into his perfect neck, tasting his blood, watching the shock in those winter eyes as he realizes too late what I'm made of.
