Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)

Inventive thinking, a must.

Especially when Leric came by my room that night, peeking his head inside with barely contained fury, nodded once, let me knock him back—I was sure he let me—outside the room where I firmly locked the door, went back into my bedroom, shut and locked that door from my guards, then opened a window, having Sin sneak inside like a damn teenager, which pissed both Sin and myself off, but neither of us were up for the fight against Leric that evening, so we crawled into bed next to each other, snuggled into our normal places against one another, and fell asleep.

Although, it didn’t help a damn lot when I had bad dreams that night…and woke up the next morning beside Leric…apparently, having called out to him in my dream state. Growling furiously, I had marched out of the bedroom, bared my teeth at King Zeller where he stood in the morning shadows when he had snickered in my ear, giving me a jaunty wave, then slipped back into bed with Sin before he even knew I had been gone. And the ironic part was I was betting my bad dreams were about my damn One in the first place, stressed as I was.

So…it was safe to assume I wasn’t in the best of moods when I had to get up not five minutes later for the pre-dawn-damn-training-bullshit…fuck.

And today, after the matches of yesterday to determine our strengths and weaknesses, we were put in groups to work on those. My jaw almost dropped when they said I needed to work on my hand-to-hand combat skills. “Are you joking?” I was damn deadly with my hands.

King Collins shrugged a shoulder. “Now that you and the One are connected, your power level shouldn’t be an issue. And since we’ve seen you use swords, we know you’re proficient. But every time we’ve seen you fight hand-to-hand,” blue eyebrows wiggled, “it could use some refining.”

My power level was still an issue, and I said as much. “My Core can only handle so much power, even if I can continue to draw from Leric. I knocked myself out yesterday using my own bit of power from inexperience. I need to work on that, not learning how to bash someone’s head in differently.”

Queen Cooper had stared pointedly. “There’s no one here to teach you that. We don’t know your skills. Your powers. So, we’ve set up a time slot after breakfast for you to work with Frost and Farley to hone those spirit powers in private.”

Ah. Dammit. “This sucks.” But they were right. I couldn’t tell them what I could do, so it meant even more time spent training. “Who am I being paired with?” Since all three of my counterparts didn’t have to do this bullshit, even London getting a passing grade on his hand-to-hand combat.

King Collin’s lips pinched. “Our best fighters.” His brows came together as he rubbed his forehead. “Elder Zeller and Elder Merrick.”

I blinked awfully slowly. “No.”

My King sighed heavily, hopefully rethinking the stupidity of this action.

“Yes.” King Zeller quickly placed a hand on my shoulder, shoving me in the direction where Elder Zeller and Elder Merrick stood in the corner speaking quietly. “Don’t worry, Bindi’s on her way.”

I glared over my shoulder. “Not funny.”

Black arched brows lifted. “Not a joke.”

“Christ,” I muttered under my breath and sighed heavily before lifting my hair up into a tiny ponytail when my King didn’t relent, trudging toward two individuals I sure as hell didn’t want to be near. Elder Zeller…was just scary. And Elder Merrick…I had managed to avoid yesterday. One frightened me; the other pissed me the hell off. Even if I wanted to kick Elder Merrick’s ass, I wasn’t quite ready for it yet mentally.

I stood in front of them while they ignored me, still speaking quietly to one another. I crossed my arms over the freaking black sports bra I was wearing, and waited. Waited longer. Then, waited even more as calculating dark orbs and frigid navy blue eyes turned toward me. Not to look me in the eyes, but both scanning my person slowly, professional assessments before they started circling me slowly. One went one way, the other in the opposite direction, making me feel even more self-conscious as they continued to peruse every inch of me with trained eyes.

Elder Zeller still studying me, poked, and then pinched my bicep. “She needs to be eating more.”

Elder Merrick grunted from behind me, and I barely kept from jumping when his hands landed on my flesh on my sides, slowly running his hands down the flare of my hips. “She’s got a good structure, though, for as small as she is.”

“Mothering hips, I believe is what they call that.” Elder Zeller cocked his head, staring at where Elder Merrick was gripping steadily, but firmly, and he nodded once. “Have you had children before, Ms. Jules?”

My face instantly flushed, staring down at my hips that were apparently so big, they were “motherly”. “No.”

Elder Zeller grunted also running his hands over my sides, down over my hips as Elder Merrick’s lowered to run down my left leg slowly, squatting behind me, each one’s fingers kneading into my flesh, probing, in my mind both looking for flaws, and staring at where he wiggled my hips a little, testing something-or-other, Elder Zeller murmured, “She could build on this. Build strength here.”

Goosebumps popped over my flesh as Elder Merrick shifted behind me, switching to run his hands down my right leg. “You can tell she’s right handed. It’s subtle, but we need to work on balancing out her muscular strength between her legs.”

Elder Zeller hummed quietly, grabbing my arms, holding them out straight, then he ran his hands up my sides gradually. If I wasn’t completely still before, I became damn near statue like when his hands grazed the sides of my breasts, my eyes flying wide, but he merely continued his progress, watching his hands as they skimmed along the underside of my arms. “Same problem up top. It’s subtle like you said, but you can tell she’s right handed.”

A tiny squeak escaped me on a puff of shocked air…when Elder Merrick’s hands slid up the back of my thighs, landing on my ass.

He squeezed gently from his crouched position, altering his fingers, spreading them to encompass the entirety of my derriere, voice cold and ruthless, emotionless. “Her ass is tone.”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” Elder Zeller remarked, shaking my hands, therefore my arms, watching them move. “Not only does she need to eat more, she needs two hours in the gym a day to bulk up.”

Elder Merrick’s hands—thank God—began to move over my curves to my lower back, his enormous, warm palms sliding up my back muscles as he began to slowly rise, both of them continuing their inspection of me, some good, some not so nice comments, so I opened my mouth wide, irked—and maybe a little hurt, and asked, “Would you like to inspect my teeth too?”