THE HEIR OF STORMS | Garrick Tavis

Chapter 19

"I don't get first-years," I grumbled, crossing my arms, "you guys are seriously celebrating being sent to Montserrat."

Illena, leaning against the hallway railing outside the Battle Brief room, glanced at me sideways, and I couldn't help but smile. Illena was incredibly good at saying a lot without saying anything, and I had started to interpret every one of her expressions. That side-eye, annoyed by my presence, seemed to say please, leave, in a way so exasperated that it amused me.

"Why are you talking to me?" she asked, and, gods, that sounded way better than please, leave. I should totally change the sound of that expression of hers.

"Because I made you come three times last night before you left me alone in the gym," I replied, watching the students leave the room, one by one, devastated. Devastated because they weren't being sent to a damn outpost. "So I guess I've earned the right to speak with you."

Illena huffed, and I leaned next to her, shoulder to shoulder. I couldn't understand why the main reason for my daily bad mood was the same reason I couldn't sleep. Illena was insufferable. She was grumpy, quiet and—her worst flaw of all—she had this intolerable habit of making me want to come just by looking at me and then leaving like nothing had happened.

I thought once would be enough. I just needed to get all the fantasies out of my head, fuck her once to kill the damn desire of having her, and never think about those blue eyes again. But after that first night, Illena was all I could think about. Day and night. And every time our eyes met, I had to fight my self-control not to go over and kiss her.

Sometimes Illena seemed to think the same. Every time she appeared in my room late at night or when she opened the door for me to come into hers. When she saw we were alone and gave no sign of leaving. When we had sex in my room, and hers, and in the gym, and in the empty hallways.

But any impression that maybe she needed to be near me as much as I needed to be near her vanished when she dressed and left, or kicked me out of her room after we were done, or walked away and left me alone, sweaty, far, far from being completely satisfied.

She was insufferable. But she was beautiful. And had eyes that seemed to see far beyond what anyone else could, and she looked like a damn queen. Giving orders with just a look. People stepped out of her way. And she hadn't even shown everyone what she could do with a blade in her hand, didn't have the strongest dragon of her year, hadn't even won all her challenges. Illena simply commanded respect.

I loved respecting her. On my knees. Between her legs. I really wanted to respect her right now.

"Earned, you say," Illena said, her fingers running over the stones of the railing, her eyes fixed at the end of the hallway. I would give anything to know what was going through her mind. "Well, we're the strongest Squad, I guess we've earned the right to celebrate as well."

I sighed, turning my face to her.

"Whose idea was it to break into General Sorrengail's office?" I asked.

"Violet's."

"And what did you find there that's making you think so hard?"

Illena looked at me, opening her mouth to say something. Her eyes said nothing that concerns you. But it was a very specific expression, and she gave me that look too many times for me to limit the meaning so much.

Maybe minding my own business, then you just need to adapt it to the correct situation and the variables of the sentence, Chradh suggested, and I had to stifle a laugh.

Gods, it's like I can actually hear her saying that, I responded, watching Illena's lips close as if she had given up on answering me. It was a great suggestion. You're getting good at this.