EYES OF FIRE AND ICE

Chapter Thirty-Four

Alia can't believe what she's seeing.

Her mind goes to Valen, reminded of the scars scattered across his arms; how each one must have been marked with agony. What those boys are doing is an insult to him — an insult to what he went through. And it makes her burn with rage.

She turns to them completely, eyes ablaze. "What do you think you're doing?"

The blonde looks up at her, mouth opening and closing with no words to follow. Just the sight of him makes her want to slash the pocketknife across his throat. She looks at the other four males, eyes hardening on the one with the open wound. Her right-hand twitches and forms into a fist.

And then she's slamming it into his face.

The unconscious male crashes back onto the table and drinks smash to the floor. The blonde shoots to his feet alongside the other three men. Alia turns to him, grabs his shoulders and slams her knee into his abdomen. As he doubles over with a pain-filled groan, Alia sends her fist straight into his jaw. He drops to the ground, unmoving like his wounded friend. She turns to glare at the others, ready for their approach, but they don't make a move forward. Instead, they avoid her furious gaze.

Alia crouches down to pick the pocketknife off of the tavern floor. Her hand shakes as she tosses it onto their table, the blade landing inches away from the wounded male's face. Then she turns to Valen, who watches her with his arms still crossed. He doesn't look angry, and he doesn't look pleased. His feelings are hidden and Alia doesn't know if that makes things worse for her.

Valen motions towards the door with a tilt of his head. She stays quiet as she follows him outside.

Wind brushes against her skin, cooling the internal heat boiling within her. She runs her hands through her hair, swallowing harshly as she realises what she's just done. Punching pack members must be a punishable offence. Shit.

Suddenly, Alia remembers Valen's shaking hand. Turning around, Alia makes a move to re-enter the tavern, rationality flying straight out of the window, but a tight, unforgiving grip on her forearm stops her in place.

Alia turns to Valen and his jaw ticks. "Leave it," he orders.

He's touching her arm. Her skin. Her eyes flicker between his hand and his face, and after a shaky breath, Alia whispers, "okay."

For the next ten minutes, Valen leads her in the opposite direction of her home. They walk silently, side by side, and Alia eventually notices the park they sat in a week ago. She smiles, remembering the serenity of the place.

"Refrain from using a weapon." Alia looks up at Valen, surprised at the sound of his voice. He remains looking forward. "If you use a weapon to fight a pack member, I will intervene."

Intervene? "Intervene how?"

"That's not important."

"But I want to be prepared."

Valen gives her a hard look, causing her steps to falter. "Obey the rules and you won't have to prepare."

Her words die in her throat. He's right. She looks down at the grass as her shoes flatten the green blades. She can't look at him, not when she's the source of his displeasure.

"If you use a weapon, so can your opponent," he explains. "There are a lot of wolves who are more capable fighters than you, Alia. If I am elsewhere and unable to intervene in time, they may cause irreparable harm." He looks at her. "They may even kill you."

Alia's chest tightens. Valen isn't trying to impose obedience, he's just trying to protect her. She meets his gaze. "I'll train harder."

They've stopped walking. "Untitled training can only take you so far."