Page 14 of Hunted

Fleur smirked.

“That includes your pretty head, and I’d rather keep my jaw intact tonight, thank you very much.”

He had a point—not that I’d ever agree with him out loud. Instead, I harrumphed and growled at Fleur to get started.

She offered me one of the bottles of liquor, tipping some into my open mouth. I smiled when I realised it was whisky—a good one, too.

“Where did you⁠—”

“Don’t ask.” She grinned. “Bottom’s up.”

She poured more of the delicious amber into my mouth—since Ethan apparently had no inclination to release my arms—then downed a mouthful herself, before finally pouring the remaining splash over my shoulder wound.

It stung like a motherfucker and my hiss told her exactly what I thought about it.

“Aw, what about me?” he whined.

“You get stabbed, you get alcohol,” I grumbled back.

“No thanks,” he sang, entirely too gleeful. “Looks painful.”

I hissed through my teeth as Fleur threaded the needle through my torn flesh. “You could say that.”

“Sorry.” She winced. “Tried to do it while you were distracted.”

Through gritted teeth, I asked her a question. “Tell me, did that tactic work when the campus doctor sewed up your ass cheek a year ago?”

Her trilling laugh answered me before any words did. “I have no idea. I was so high on painkillers, I don’t remember.” She giggled again. “Painkillers you would have access to if you’d gone to the medlab instead.” Her brows rose pointedly.

“And be so drug-addled I don’t notice when Sebastos inevitably sneaks in to finish the job?”

Ethan jolted. “What are you talking about?”

“Beckett and I heard him threaten to kill me in the hallway⁠—”

“Beckett?!” Fleur’s head jerked back round as she stared at me in confusion. “When were you with Beckett?”

“And why does Seb want to kill you?” Ethan tacked on.

“A multitude of reasons, but the main one is probably because I threw his own dagger back at him and stuck him in the thigh.”

“Ah.”

My gaze swivelled back to meet Fleur’s hard, assessing stare. “I ran into Beckett in the hallway on my way up here.”

Her face softened. “Oooh, ran into him, did you? Merde, you work quickly.” She laughed. “First Pearce, now Beckett?”

“Jesus, Addie, you do work quick,” Eth teased.

I groaned. “No, I mean I literally ran into him. Face first into the brick wall that is his pectoral muscles.”

Ethan snorted in derision and Fleur cackled.

“Okay, all done, ma chérie,” she announced.

“Already?”

“You’re easily distracted”—she winked—“by talk of muscular instructors.”