Page 84 of This Shattered Star

I grit my teeth against a thousand different curses threatening to tumble past my lips, pulled my sleeve over my hand, and yanked the door open just enough for me to slip through. Then stomped across the short distance between my room and the one I could no longer avoid.

I pounded on Kodhan’s door repeatedly—hard enough for it to shake on its hinges, without cease.

Kodhan’s figure rapidly filled the frame, towering over my own. I ignored the way my heart did a small leap over itself as I took him in. His eyes narrowed into slits. “You’ve made enough noise to summon every competitor in this corridor. Are you satisfied with yourself?”

“Not yet.” I gathered all my strength into my right arm and swung.

My fist connected with his jaw.

The act took him with enough surprise that he staggered a few steps backwards.

“What was the point?” I advanced, readying another swing.

He caught my fist before it could make contact again. Satisfaction bloomed inside of me as a red blotch already began to form where I’d struck him.

His jaw worked from side to side. “You’re askingmethat question?”

“Don’t play the fool,” I seethed, trying to pull my fist out of his grip. But he held fast, squeezing hard enough that my bones creaked. “Burning me alive? Such a grand gesture coming from a bastard like you.”

He glanced between me and the empty corridor. “Will you lower your voice?” Still holding my fist, he reached over my shoulder to pull his door closed.

His chest skimmed my shoulder when he straightened. I gaped at him. “Lower my voice?You almost killed me in my sleep!” I swung with my other hand, to punch or to smack him—either one would’ve been enough. But he caught that one too, and with a sigh that sent agitation shooting through my veins at a blinding speed, he held both my wrists above my head, pushing us back in one fluid movement so my spine bumped against the door, his body keeping me pinned in place.

His thighs pressed into mine. Stealing any possibility of being able to kick him.

“But I didn’t,” he countered, his face so close to mine that our breaths mingled, mine uneven with rage and his frustratingly steady.

Every time I writhed, he applied more weight onto my limbs. The wood behind me groaned. It was no use. I met his unflinching stare. “Let go of me.”

“Are you going to hit me again?” He squeezed both of my wrists for emphasis.

“No promises.”

His mouth quirked up in a hint of a smile. But too quickly did the amusement fade from his eyes, giving way to an intensity that had trepidation crawling along the back of my arms and neck.

“I needed—” His throat worked around the words, bobbing as he swallowed. “I wanted to see you.”

I rolled my eyes, giving myself a moment of reprieve from holding his heavy stare. “Has the idea of knocking ever crossed your thick skull?”

“Would you have answered knowing I was the one knocking?”

My mouth opened. Then snapped shut.

He smiled, then. A real one, for the second time. The harsh lines of his constant scowl melted into something… soft. Warm.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m here now,” I said, a tad breathlessly. “You got what you wanted. Talk.”

Peering around him, I scanned the room for Brannon and Theia, who were nowhere to be seen.

Noting my search, he offered, “They went to Theia’s room.”

“Good. If someone yelled at me like that, I wouldn’t want to see their face, either.”

That one muscle ticked in his jaw. “Brannon told me how he found you waiting outside. How you claimed to not have heard anything. But something tells me that’s false.”

An incredulous laugh burst from me. “Is that what this is about?”

He remained quiet. Expectant.