Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166: 166. Break

Maisie

"Hayes. Burke. Go," Instructor Warren blew on his whistle, and I watched them circle each other in the ring, before Cole moved first, driving his fist up through Burke’s gut.

I winced at the sound of bones breaking. Sometimes, I wondered if Combat was just Instructor Warren’s way of pitting us against each other to vent out his own frustration. I swore the highest casualties Ashbourne saw on a daily basis came from these classes.

And I was about to become one.

Because Ryder–freaking–Hunt was standing on my right, waiting out our turn as we were next to go. I now wished I had just stayed back home like a normal person after a stressful trip, but the overachiever in me had reared her head.

Well. That wasn’t the real reason.

I fled from the mansion because staying meant... I didn’t know what staying meant.

I didn’t know what it meant to wake up in our home now that the ice between us was somewhat... broken. I didn’t know what to do with the line of demarcation still running down the apartment, mocking me. Or the constant humming of need under my skin, keeping me endlessly aware that they were just on the other side of the house.

Worse yet, I had the sudden thought of making them breakfast.

It horrified me so much, I got into the shower, dressed up earlier than I should’ve and ran the entire way to school.

I didn’t know how to be a wife. I didn’t even think I was cut out for that role. Goddess, I couldn’t believe I was even having this train of thought. Whatever happened to being a career woman?

My mind was so far away, my fingers fiddling with the necklace around my neck that I didn’t hear Instructor Warren call out my name the first time, until Regina poked me in the same moment he barked out my last name a little harder. "Adams. Get your head out of the clouds and get on the darned ring."

Soft laughter rippled through the crowd as I pulled away from the crowd and walked ahead, trying to shake off the anxiety I felt upon seeing Ryder already in the ring, taking off his shirt slowly as he ran his eyes along my body with a coy smile.

No one else had wanted to stand by my side on the line.

While it had boosted my ego a little bit that this time, everyone was choosing to steer clear of me because the last time I’d been in a fight, I’d beaten Cole to a pulp, Warren–the sadist–had thought it would be good to pair Lycan against Lycan.

A fantastic demonstration of strength and speed, he’d said.

I stepped onto the ring and I stood squarely on the ball of my feet, my heart rate slowly picking, even as I willed myself to stay calm.

Ryder began circling me. He was shirtless up his bare torso and covered in just as many tattoos as Bastian, who was watching us below the ring with Kisten. While he was nowhere near as bulky as Kisten, he was still a rather large man, more than twice my weight size.

This didn’t even feel like a fair fight.

I remembered what fighting Kisten had been like. What losing had felt like. And how pathetic I’d felt, even if Quinlan explained that Kisten was a warrior who had been learning to fight since he could talk.

I knew from the same mad look in Ryder’s eyes that it was likely the same case with him.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips around a coy smile. "You’re a hard woman to track down, Maisie Adams."

"Stalk, you mean," I said.

He lunged at me the moment Warren’s whistle blew.

I shuffled sideways, ducking under the blow with barely an inch to spare. Ryder grinned, excitement lighting up those piercing blue eyes like a predator who had just scented blood. "Last I checked, you have a thing for stalkers. Who knows... I just might get lucky and be the next one you spread your legs for."

The crude taunt barely registered before he came at me again.

I feinted left and drove my fist straight into the bastard’s face.

The impact jolted up my arm. Ryder staggered back a step, blood trickling from his split lip, but that savage gleam in his eyes only sharpened. Instead of slowing him down, the hit seemed to fuel him and he began attacking without pause.

I was strong. Ryder was stronger. I was trained. Ryder fought like a raging bull with no off switch. There was no technique to predict, no weakness to exploit.

Pain erupted across my body in rapid fire. A brutal punch to my ribs, a wrench down my arm, nearly taking it out its socket, a knee slamming into my thigh. He forced me into a wicked dance I couldn’t break out of where I found myself blocking, shielding, unable to land one clean blow. My sheens burned. My ribcage screamed. My arms and shoulders throbbed from the constant barrage.

"Your mother," I wheezed, even as I felt all the blood rush to my head. "My mother is dead, no thanks to yours!"

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