21. Adrianna

ADRIANNA

Information on my mother? What the fuck do I want that for? I don't know. Clearly, there's a part of me that subconsciously clings to some kind of remnant of her in my mind, but I'm trying not to think about it. Not when I'm already distracted. All of my father's focus training has gone out the window since I got here. I've barely been able to cling to any of it and everything has become an easy distraction. I'm not faring well, and I know my father would be helpless to get me on track.

Maybe it would be different if he were here, but that's not always going to be the case. I know I'm strong, resilient, and determined, but that doesn't mean I don't have my weaknesses, and it seems like I've found them.

Men. Boys. Assholes.

How can I even be a leader with this mindset? I'll never earn my crown with self-doubt.

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to recenter my focus and attention. My head throbs from the punch the wolf landed, and I recall Cassian's words the last time I endured a duel: only the wolf you are fighting over can heal you. Like hell am I asking him to help me with this. The last time we spoke, we fucked, and then he stormed out. Did we really do much talking? Either way, I'd rather manage the pain than inflict further torment on myself.

"Good morning. If you can pair up with the partner I called out for you last week, we're going to get straight into the swing of things," the professor announces as he waltzes into the room. His black cloak flurries behind him, he's moving that fast, paying no one any mind, and a split second later, my view is blocked by the familiar blond hair and purple cloak that is Brody.

My partner.

Great.

It could be worse, but he's a handful, and we haven't really spoken since our chat in the forest. All of these men, with all of these unfinished or stilted conversations, are worsening my headache and driving it straight into a migraine.

"Did I mention how hot it was watching you take that girl down?" he states, rocking back on his heels as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

"You didn't, actually."

"Well, I am now. H.O.T. Hot. Hot, little Dagger. Hot. Hot. Hot."

My cheeks heat as I wave him off. "You can stop now."

"I'd rather I didn't," he retorts with a wink, and I shake my head.

"I'm sure."

"Has anyone here danced the waltz before?"

My eyes widen, recalling the last time we were in this class and Brody mentioned that he knew it a little. Before I can make sure he keeps his damn mouth shut, he waves to the professor. "I have."

"Excellent. Can you please show everyone how the male position should embrace the female position," he orders while I glare at the mage before me, who doesn't seem to notice.

I'm going to kill him.

He steps in closer, so close our shoes almost touch. His hand splays across the bottom of my back, making my spine stiffen and my nerve endings stand at attention. He doesn't miss a beat, lacing his fingers with mine as our breaths mingle together.

Definitely going to kill him.

"Would you like to lead her around the room for everyone to see?" the professor asks.

"No," I blurt at the same time he hollers "Yes!" in agreement.

"It's okay, Dagger. I've got you," he promises before his feet begin to move.

With one hand on his chest and the other engulfed in his, I cling on for dear life as he takes the lead, literally waltzing me around the room effortlessly. I stumble over his feet a few times, but he doesn't falter, and when we're back in our original spot, he catches me off guard, grabbing my waist and dipping me low.

The professor claps as I quickly rush to stand back on two feet, my cheeks heating even more as I pat at his chest. He thankfully takes a step back, but the embers of desire are undeniable in his eyes as he peers at me.

"It's cute when you get flustered," he states, making me frown as I fold my arms over my chest.

"I'm not flustered," I grumble, acutely aware that there's still an audience watching us.

"Of course you're not." He winks again. Fucking winks.

"That's marvelous, Brody. What a performance, may I ask you to come and aid me around the room so we can help everyone get into the swing of things? Addi, you, however, require some more practice. Please consider watching the videos online as I recommended in the last lesson."

A few snickers ring out as I avert my gaze. I haven't watched a single one, and that's probably not helping, but in my defense, there's been a lot going on since our last class.

"I don't want to be apart from you," Brody says, stroking a finger down my cheek as I roll my eyes and push him back a step. He knows exactly how to get under my skin.

The second he's gone, another shadow casts over me.

Kryll.

"Where's Flora?" I ask, peering around him.

"Arlo somehow convinced me to swap partners."

"Arlo convinced you?" I clarify, eyebrows raised, and he smirks, rolling his eyes at me.

"I actually know Arlo's father. He has a business relationship with my father, and he's an alright guy. He's also hot for his stepsister, so I can't help but watch them stumble around each other in amusement."

"He does?"

"Of course that's what you took from that," he mumbles, his grin spreading wider.

"Everybody, start practicing. Brody and I will give pointers on our walk-through," the professor declares, and Kryll instantly reaches for my waist and hand, just as Brody had done a moment ago.

"Don't you think?—"

"Shut up and dance with me, Princess."

My eyes narrow on him. "Stop calling me that," I grumble as we slowly begin to move.

"Why?"

"Because that's not who I am anymore."

His head rears back as he frowns down at me. "You think I'm calling you princess because you were a princess?"

I gape at him, at a loss for words for a split second before I shake my head. "I don't know. It sounds weird now that you're saying it out loud," I admit, and he snickers.

"That's because it's weird as fuck."

"Excuse me, that's my?—"

"Fuck off, Delia," Kryll grunts, turning to the girl standing beside us with her hands planted on her hips. With her eyes narrowed, she storms off toward the professor, leaving Kryll to shrug and continue to try and lead me through this damn dance.

"You're causing a stir," I state, glancing down at our feet as I try to follow the steps.

"Is it me, or is it you?" he retorts, forcing me to glance back up at him.

"At the rate everything is going, it'll work out to be me, I'm sure." He smirks. "It's not funny," I snap, lips pursed, which only makes his face light up more.

"I never said it was." No one should look this good when they're making fun of me. It should be illegal.

"That ridiculous grin on your face says otherwise," I mutter, and he shrugs again.

"I'm sure it does."

Shaking my head, I focus on the dance for a few moments, my head spinning from our interaction. It's always like this. He's a mystery, and it's half of the reason I'm distracted.

"You're an enigma," I blurt, tilting my head up to his as we manage to take five steps before I stumble.

"You're one to talk."

"Please, that's crap and you know it," I retort, making him shake his head.

"Maybe. I'm a shifter; getting close to people like this isn't in my comfort zone," he admits.

Intrigued, I tilt my head to the side as I assess him. "And how does that make you feel?"

"Uncomfortable as fuck," he grumbles, glancing off into the distance for a second.

"Stepping out of your comfort zone will do that to you," I admit with a snicker of my own, and he rolls his eyes before settling his gaze on me.

"It's not so bad when it's you and not some whiny brat," he explains, nodding to where Delia is still complaining to the professor.

"You're welcome."

"I wasn't thanking you," he quickly retorts, and I smile up at him sweetly.

"That's not what I heard."

"Of course it isn't." This time, we complete seven steps before we restart. This is going to take me forever to get the hang of. "Did you attend any of the fancy balls when you were the princess?" he asks, startling me.

Clearing my throat, I shake my head. "No. I was too young for any of this."

"But not too young to feel the wrath of the wolves when the downfall came," he states, making my heart race as his gaze shifts to my clipped ears for a split second.

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" I breathe, my heart racing.

"Is there anything you can do about the amethyst? Brody mentioned that it wasn't likely." I blink at him, close to whiplash from the different conversations as we attempt to move.

"I have no idea," I admit, hating the fear that creeps over me at the thought of it being there permanently.

"Does it hurt?" I can't decide if that's concern in his gaze or not.

"Yesterday, like a bitch. Today, I know it's there, but the bite of the pain doesn't linger the same." It's the truth. It's weird how I keep doing that, offering people information they don't necessarily need. I guess it doesn't hurt to share some things with people. It alleviates the pain in my chest for sure.

"It's crazy how strong you are."

His words make me freeze, halting the dance again before I clear my throat and try again.

"You don't know me enough to make that assessment."

He shrugs. "I know enough."

"You do?"

"I'm a shifter, remember? We don't get close to people. Which means we can make judgments and assessments early on." He states it so matter of factly, there's no room for me to argue.

"Noted." Eager to move the conversation away from me, I consider him for a moment, and a question comes to mind. "Are you here to be the heir or a support system?"

His eyebrows raise. "That's a change of subject."

It's my turn to shrug. "I mean, you asked me about glamorous balls when I was a princess. I feel like it's fair game," I reply, and he smirks, glancing away again before looking down at our feet.

"Maybe." A few minutes pass as we focus on the steps, making it to fifteen before I stumble, and I'm certain he's not going to give me an answer until his eyes suddenly latch on to mine. "Right now, I'm just here. I haven't decided in what capacity yet."

"You're telling me the four of you haven't had discussions about this?" I retort, caught by surprise.

"No, we've had a lot of discussions, but adding pressure to a situation and forcing an outcome isn't really my style."

"Your style is elusive as fuck," I blurt, and he chuckles.

"Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"That's not what I heard," he states, throwing my own words back at me.

My lips part, no response ready, when Brody appears to my left.

"I'm here; give me back my girl."

"I'm not your girl," I retort, wagging a finger at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"If you say so."

"I do say so." This guy is insufferable.

"Okay then, if we're being politically correct, you're our girl."

"I'm no one's girl," I bite out, taking a step back from Kryll as my hands ball into fists at my sides.

"You sound like a shifter," he states as Brody continues to stare at me with desire dancing in his baby blues.

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask, flicking my gaze between the two of them. I don't even know why the words left my lips. I don't care, but they're out there now.

"Maybe, maybe not," Kryll whispers, confusion glazing over his eyes as he takes a step back, running a hand through his red hair. Without another word, he turns and darts toward Delia.

"Don't worry, Dagger, he's coming around. He's just going to need a little time."

I frown, glancing at Brody. "Coming around to what?"

"You. Him. Us."