“Just wondering what you would have been like if I’d met you in my own time—back when I was mortal.”
“You probably would’ve made me another one of your conquests, and I would have been as uninterested then as I am now. That’s what I would have been like.”
He licks his bottom lip, and Odin above, I want to feel that tongue on my body. That same, disturbing fire ebbs between us. Marshal isn’t as wild as the rest of them. He was a knight. He has manners, but he drips sex, natural and unabashed. He’s very hard to resist.
And from the predatory glint in his green eyes, he knows it.
A tall figure approaches and I mutter a prayer of thanks when we’re interrupted by Armin. He watches us suspiciously. “Something wrong?”
Marshal straightens. “No. Nothing at all.”
“We’re fine.”
To my surprise he walks off with a lazy, sauntering gait. I can’t help but watch him go.
“Be careful with him,” Armin says. “He’s…”
“An asshole.”
“Dangerous, was what I was going to say. If he bothers you, let me know.”
I don’t have the heart, or guts, to tell Armin he’s a little too late for that.
“I’ll tell you what I told him. I don’t need your protection.”
“No, but we’re on the same side and we don’t need to be distracted by pettiness. Marshal senses a challenge and he’s never met one that he hasn’t wanted to conquer.”
The word conquer sends a tremor down my spine, because deep down I’m a warrior, too. Is that what we’ve been doing all these weeks? Trying to conquer one another?
I nod my understanding and walk back over to the table, taking my seat next to Marielle, ignoring the feeling tugging at my chest.
Marshal may not be the only one that likes a challenge.
Our schedules are distributed after breakfast, and it doesn’t take long to figure out that this really isn’t a typical school. The classes are not about reading and writing. It’s about how to survive the apocalypse, and unsurprisingly the Immortals have the perfect skill set required for instructing classes. Most involve warfare with a focus on fighting (Miya), strategy (Agis), and mythology (Armin).
I’m not sure if I should be offended that the powers that be determined I should be a student and not an instructor, but Rupert definitely is.
“This is a waste of time,” I hear Rupert argue as I enter the classroom. “Why are we being treated like children?”
“Technically, you are a child,” Marshal says, easing into the seat next to mine. He stretches his long legs along either side of the desk in front of him. “Good morning, Valkyrie.”
We hadn’t spoken since the night before, in the dining hall. I wish I could say I hadn’t thought about him, but that would be a lie. He’s managed to work his way under my skin.
“I’m not a child,” he says with a touch of petulance. His eyes dart to my seat. “You know what I mean, right?”
“I can’t say I’m excited about wearing this ridiculous uniform and having to attend classes all over again, but it’s for a greater cause and I’m hopeful finding the stone and temple won’t take that long.”
“Without the uniform we wouldn’t get a view of those legs,” Marshal leans over to get a better look, “an asset you’ve been hiding from us, apparently.”
Rupert snorts. I ignore Marshal.
“Think logically,” I tell Rupert, “being a student gives us an inside track to the rest of the population here.”
“Yes, it does,” Marshal says, watching a few girls walk in. God, he’s incorrigible. “I have no interest in sharing my skills with these people anyway. There’s nothing like having the upper hand.” He flashes me a lopsided grin. “Well, not my warrior skills. My skills as a dedicated lover are something else.”
Rupert frowns. “I think the word 'lover' is probably a stretch. Didn’t you forcibly assault most of the women you were with?”
“False,” Marshal says, darkness flickering in his eyes. “I’ve never forced myself on a woman. Never needed to.”