Daughter of Rage and Beauty (Berserker Academy Book 1)

by Amy Pennza

  “Yes!” He waved me forward. “More like that.”

  Circling . . . circling. I had to wait for the right moment. Keep him off guard.

  He grinned. Oh yeah, he knew what I was doing.

  A corresponding grin pulled at my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. Sparring had never been like this—had never been fun.

  The wind blew harder, but it was warm. I danced forward, intending to jab.

  He swatted the staff away.

  I ducked, then struck at his ankle. Got him.

  He yelped and sidestepped. “Good one.”

  Emboldened, I jabbed again.

  He swatted me back.

  Again, jab.

  He missed me.

  Again, jab. Another hit, this time to his chest.

  Half grunting, half laughing, he whirled away.

  The move forced me to pursue. The battlements loomed behind him.

  My stomach did a flip. I glanced over his shoulder, looking for a gap.

  He grabbed the staff and yanked me against his chest.

  I jerked backwards, but it was like trying to budge a mountain. The staff was trapped between our bodies. Even so, his heart thundered against mine, and my breasts pressed against his chest.

  “You lost concentration,” he said, his voice breathless. His face was inches from mine.

  Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. To think. I had to focus to get a response out. “I-I know. I was worried about falling.”

  His arm was hard around my back, his skin warm even through my leather jerkin. “No need to worry, Elin. I won’t let you fall.”

  My heart pounded. This wasn’t just a headmaster training his student. Something was happening.

  Did I want it to happen?

  His gaze searched mine. Loose strands of hair framed his face, catching in his beard. His lips were full and sensual.

  Soft. They looked soft.

  Alarm bells rang in my head. Was I thinking of kissing him?

  “Elin.” His voice was low. Husky.

  “H-Headmaster . . .”

  “Call me Hauk.”

  I jerked my gaze up. Because I’d been staring at his mouth. “I can’t,” I said, and I wasn’t sure if I was talking about kissing him or calling him by his name.

  “You can”—a challenge entered his gaze—“if I order it.”

  “You’d order me to use your name?” Was that my voice sounding vague and dreamy?

  He looked at my mouth. “Only when we’re alone.”

  Warmth rushed through my belly . . . and lower.

  “Let me hear you say it,” he murmured.

  I drew in a shaky breath. “Is that an order?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Hauk.”

  His lips curved. “I—”

  A caw split the air.

  He frowned.

  I tensed.

  More caws, and the moment was over.

  He released me. I stepped back. On the battlements sat two ravens, their heads cocked as they stared at us. One shifted, spreading its wings and resettling its feathers.

  The headmaster—no, Hauk—looked at me, one hand on the back of his neck. “Ah, we should, um—”

  “Get back.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, before people talk.” Heat rushed into my cheeks. Way to make things more awkward, Elin.

  But he gave a quick nod. “Right. Of course.”

  An uncomfortable silence stretched. My throat was dry from the long sparring session, my back itchy with drying sweat.

  Funny how I hadn’t noticed those things before.

  I half turned toward the opening leading to the steps. “Well, I should go . . .”

  “I’ll help you down.”

  “No need,” I said, the protest coming just a little too quickly. I lowered my voice. “I’ll be fine.”

  He seemed to sense I needed some space. “All right.”

  Staff in hand, I walked to the steps, my emotions swirling so fast I couldn’t catch hold of one long enough to decide how I felt. Just before I started down, he called after me.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Same place, same time. I’ll bring lunch.”

  I’d frozen when he spoke. There had been a question in his voice, as if he wasn’t sure I’d agree to show up again.

  I met his gaze. He stood in a shaft of sunlight, his hands loose at his sides. The henley stretched across his chest, and his hair was dark with sweat at the temples. Over his shoulder, the ravens watched me, their bodies still.

  The air itself was still.

  Waiting.

  “I’ll be here,” I said.

  Hauk smiled, and it was like he held part of the sunshine inside him. Its warmth beamed from him, peeking out from those incredible eyes. “Tomorrow, then.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  As I descended the steps, my spinning emotions coalesced into two distinct thoughts.

  What kind of trouble had I just gotten myself into?

  More importantly, why was I already looking forward to it?

  7

  I didn’t have much time to worry about Olaf or Maja or anything else over the next week. My days quickly fell into two halves: the time before my training with Hauk, and the time after my training with Hauk.

  The stuff that came before and after didn’t seem to matter all that much. After my rocky start in Defensive Magic, Professor McBride seemed content to pretend I was invisible. She didn’t demand any duels or demonstrations, either. It made for a boring hour, but it was better than having half the academy look at me like I was a freak.

  Thinking to blend in with the crowd, I started leaving the staff in my room until lunch. My plan seemed to work, too, because people eventually stopped shooting me curious looks or whispering to each other when I walked by.

  I still got the occasional death glare from Maja, but there wasn’t much she could do to trip me up. With me skipping morning training, I barely saw her.

  Fine by me.

  Once Defensive Magic wrapped up, I raced to my room, grabbed the staff, and headed to the Dragon Tower.

  Hauk always waited at the top.

  And my heart always pounded as I climbed the last few steps and saw him standing there, a grin on his face and some kind of delicious lunch spread on the ground at his feet.

  He claimed it didn’t cost him much energy to open portals.

  “I’m so used to doing it,” he said, “I guess I don’t notice the drain anymore.”

  I swallowed my bite of pulled pork sandwich. “I find that hard to believe, but I’m not complaining.”

  He dragged a potato chip through the dollop of french onion dip on his plate and lifted it to his mouth. “Portal work is hard for you?” he asked, then popped the whole thing in his mouth.

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never managed to open one.”

  Disbelief entered his gaze. “Never?”

  “I’m afraid not.” I looked away, unable to face the shock in his eyes. Even the weakest Mythicals could open portals. The enchantment for manipulating the space between planes was one of the first words children learned. It was basic magic.

  Hauk shoved his plate aside and touched my hand. “It’s all right, Elin. It’s not a big deal.”

  His fingers covered my hand, his skin warm against mine. After that first day on the tower, he hadn’t touched me at all except for necessary contact during sparring. At first, the change had left me confused and—if I was honest with myself—disappointed. As the days passed, however, I began wondering if he’d realized how dangerous it was for us to dabble in . . .

  Well, whatever it was we’d dabbled in.

  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. No matter how much attraction there was between us—and it was undeniable—it was impossible for us to have a relationship. Impossible and unwise. Headmasters, even young and handsome ones, didn’t date students. I was at Bjørneskalle to learn how to kill, not fall in love.

  Whoa. Where had that thought come from? I jerked upright, snat
ching my hand away in the process.

  Hauk sat back, frowning. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to downplay the portal thing.”

  “No, it’s okay.” I waved a hand. My cheeks burned. I couldn’t tell him the real reason I’d pulled away. Better to let him think I was upset about my inability to open portals.

  He gave me a discerning look that was a little too direct for comfort. He’d denied being able to read minds, but I still wasn’t convinced.

  I stood and brushed nonexistent dirt from my backside. “We should get started, don’t you think?”

  A beat passed, and I thought he might press me, but he nodded. “Sure. I’ll just tidy up.”

  We did our typical sparring—this time to some kind of techno beat that shook the ground and made me worry about the tower’s structural integrity. By the end of the session, we were both sweating and laughing.

  “You’ve improved,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his arm. He wore a black, sleeveless jerkin worked with vines and dragons. “You’re faster, and your form looks great.”

  The praise did something to my belly, and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. None of the tutors Harald hired had ever offered me encouragement. I tightened my ponytail, then scooped the staff from the ground. I put a closed fist over my heart and offered him a formal bow.

  “Headmaster.”

  He grinned at the use of his title. After a week in his company, I no longer had any trouble calling him Hauk. He returned my bow. “Elin. Until tomorrow.”

  Record needle scratch. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

  A blond eyebrow went up. “You think you’re good enough to skip weekends?”

  Ugh. I sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you something good for lunch. Besides . . .” He put a hand on the back of his neck, his demeanor hesitant.

  It was unlike him, and I smiled. “What? What is it?”

  “Ah . . . I need to ask you something. But it can wait until tomorrow.”

  He needed to ask me something? My pulse fluttered. I almost told him to ask now, but I bit my tongue. I wasn’t sure I was prepared for whatever he had to say.

  No, better to take the night to think about it—and to plan my response.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll just have to be curious.”

  His expression was pure charm. “Just until tomorrow.’

  I turned and headed for the stairs so he wouldn’t see my goofy smile.

  By now, I was comfortable enough with the steps to take them at a light jog. I skimmed one palm along the wall, my boots sharp raps against the stone. As I had every day, I replayed the training session in my mind, reviewing every move I’d learned. Hauk had taught me how to focus on my form as a means of blocking out distractions—something he said was responsible for me losing control of my rage.

  I was so engrossed in my thoughts, I didn’t see Maja emerge from the tower’s shadow as I reached the bottom.

  “More private time with the headmaster?” she called behind me, her voice dripping venom.

  My heart kicked into a furious rhythm as I faced her. She stood several steps away from the tower, a tangle of green shrubbery at her back. The breeze wasn’t as strong on the ground, but it tugged at her hair and stirred the leaves behind her.

  I forced as much calm into my tone as possible. “My training is none of your business.”

  “Oh, it’s everyone’s business now. The whole castle can’t stop talking about how our resident nymph has seduced the headmaster.”

  Anger rose in my chest. I tamped it down, keeping my breaths slow and even. If she’d come to provoke me into losing control, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

  She took a step toward me. “Nothing to say? So you don’t deny it.”

  I held my ground, my fingers curled around the staff. Her gaze darted there, and a little thrill of triumph zipped through me.

  She’s afraid. Or at least wary. I could work with that.

  “Listen, Maja,” I said. “I know about your parents.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Keep their names out of your mouth.”

  “I don’t know their names, so you don’t have to worry about that. But my family aren’t the kind of Fae who do that sort of thing.”

  “No,” she snapped. “Just the kind who spread their legs for money and power.”

  What the hell is her problem? If she knew nymphs and satyrs didn’t use humans for snacks, why was she such a judgmental bitch about them? My chest tightened.

  Whatever. I didn’t have to stand around and listen to her garbage. I turned and started for the castle.

  “He deserves better than you.”

  I froze, and a light went on in my head. She was talking about Hauk. I faced her.

  She watched me with narrowed eyes, her face as hard as I’d ever seen it.

  Did she want him? Did he know it?

  My thoughts whirled. If I denied there was anything between Hauk and me, it might make me sound defensive—or like I had something to hide.

  Which I didn’t. Did I?

  She must have seen the indecision in my face, because she took another step forward. “You still haven’t denied it.”

  “There’s nothing to deny,” I shot back, anger making me abandon caution. “I’m Fae. He’s Fae. Or have you forgotten that?”

  Her bark of laughter bounced off the stone. She put a hand on her hip, her purple eyes glittering. “You don’t know, do you? He hasn’t told you who he is.”

  What was she talking about? He’d said on day one he was . . .

  My breath hitched. He said he was Fae. He never actually said what kind.

  Why hadn’t he told me? Did he have something to hide?

  Maja’s lips curved in an acid smile. She drifted closer, her boots quiet on the soft grass. Trailing vines from the nearby shrub stretched over the ground.

  Nettles. Vicious things. Asher claimed they were just misunderstood.

  Movement pulled my attention from the nettles. Maja stood steps from me now, her smile broader but still not reaching her eyes.

  “Do yourself a favor, nymph. The next time you see the headmaster, ask him what kind of Fae he is. Ask him to tell you about his father.”

  I held her stare. There was nothing I could say. Not really. If I claimed to know what she was talking about, she could easily call my bluff. If I admitted I didn’t know, I just made myself look like the fool she obviously thought I was.

  “Aww.” She made her lips into a pout. “You thought it meant something, didn’t you? Trust me, honey, your kind will never be good enough for him.”

  Anger flared in my gut.

  Have to go.

  Gripping the staff, I spun and started to walk away.

  Something grabbed my hair and yanked. Hard.

  I gasped and stumbled backwards.

  Maja’s voice was a snarl in my ear. “I’m not done talking to—”

  The staff pulled me around, the force whipping my hair out of her grip.

  Later, I couldn’t remember what happened. One moment I was facing off with Maja, the next she was flat on her back, her mouth opened on a soundless scream.

  At least I think it was soundless. The nettles’ urgent whispering made it hard to hear anything else.

  They slithered over and around her, their leafy vines making little roads across her arms and legs.

  Her torso.

  Her face.

  White welts pebbled her skin, the weals already weeping.

  I frowned. “Stop, friends. You’ll hurt her.”

  The nettles paused, their attention on me. “She’sssss bad. Poisssson in her heart. Nassssty berserker.”

  “Maybe so, but she doesn’t deserve pain.”

  The prickly leaves didn’t listen. They continued stretching their tentacles over her body, covering her with layer after layer of green. They kept up their whispering. I caught words here and there, mostly “poisssson” and “nas
sssty.”

  I stepped closer. The staff heated in my hand. For the first time, I realized I held it aloft. A warm breeze tugged at the hairs along my temples, bringing with it the smell of pine and earth.

  The nettles moved faster. Maja stared at the sky with sightless eyes. Dozens of welts dotted her face.

  I had to do something. I aimed the staff at the bush. “Please stop. I thank you for your help, but—”

  Bright light blinded me, as if someone had lassoed the sun and pulled it down to earth.

  I dropped the staff and stumbled back, my hands over my eyes.

  Rough hands grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. Shook me. “Elin, what are you doing?”

  Hauk.

  I opened my eyes. He gripped me with hard fingers. His face was pale, his eyes wide.

  And his expression was furious.

  He gave me another shake. “Answer me!”

  “I . . .” My eyes stung, and black spots swam in my vision. My heart pounded. “I d-don’t know. The nettles—”

  With a sound of disgust, he set me away from him and whirled toward Maja.

  My vision cleared, but a headache throbbed behind my eyes. Most of the nettles had been blasted back, their leaves curled and blackened.

  An ache shot through my chest. They hadn’t meant any harm . . .

  Although, that wasn’t really true. If Hauk hadn’t shown up, they would have continued stinging. The tiny needles on their leaves released various chemicals that could kill in great quantities. Even when they didn’t cause death, the itching they caused was agony for most people.

  I hugged my arms around my middle as Hauk ripped the remaining vines away from Maja’s body.

  Body. Saliva pooled in my mouth. For a second, I thought I might lose my lunch right there in the grass. I breathed through my nose and swallowed several times.

  He continued working, his movements frantic. The nettles had to be stinging his hands and arms.

  I crept forward, a trembling hand over my mouth. “Is she . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish.

  “She’s not dead.” His voice was a low growl. He shot a hard glance over his shoulder. “Stay back, I need to do something.”

  I shuffled backwards.

  He placed flat palms over her chest and bent his head. Blue light pulsed from his hands. Her chest jerked. She made a choking sound.