Chapter 9

What! 'I'll deal with it,' I said, already on my way.

As I stormed past the bathrooms and up the stairs on the other side, I fumed over Rose's lack of sense. It seemed she had an entire section of her brain reserved for ideas, knowledge and incentive doomed to get her in trouble. Who on earth would use the abandoned lounge on the fourth floor? And damn her for finding it; the lock on that door was broken.

I was too angry to think of what I would say or do when I found her – that remained to be seen. What didn't even have time to cross my mind was what state I would find her in.

I burst through the door, raging over the images popping into my head – images of that ill-mannered boy with his hands on Rose's body; Rose, willing and responsive.

The state I found them in was every bit as bad as I had imagined. They were entangled on the couch, the Zeklos boy pushing her down and covering her with his body.

This registered in less than a second, which was time enough for the both of them to spring apart like startled deer. The second after, I was upon him. Rose ceased to exist as my tunnel-vision focused on the Moroi – in that moment, it was all he was. Another royal Moroi seeking to trophy –

Well, never mind that. He wanted to disrespect her, wanted to prove that he could have her in the same fashion a royal Moroi could have anything he wanted. Uncontrollable rage flared up inside me, and I jerked the boy up by his shirt, nearly holding him off the ground.

'What's your name?' I barked, too angry to even feel satisfied when the Moroi's eyes sprang open with terror.

'J-Jesse, sir. Jesse Zeklos, sir.'

Jesse Zeklos. Rose couldn't have picked a worse Moroi student for the occasion. Despite my anger, I was a teacher, and I needed to interrogate him and make him realise just exactly why he had done wrong.

'Mr. Zeklos, do you have permission to be in this part of the dorm?'

'No, sir.'

'Do you know the rules about male and female interactions around here?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then I suggest you get out of here as fast as you can before I turn you over to someone who will punish you accordingly. If I ever see you like this again' – I pointed to where Rose cowered, not taking my eyes off the Moroi – 'I will be the one to punish you. And it will hurt. A lot. Do you understand?'

The Moroi swallowed, eyes wide. I was immensely pleased to see that his bravado had all but together vanished.

'Yes, sir!'

It was a considerable strain on my self-control to simply let him go, but I had another culprit to deal with.

'Then go,' I snapped, releasing him. He fled, hurrying out like a scared mouse.

With that moron out of the picture, I could focus the full force of my anger on its actual source. I swivelled in her direction, too angry to say anything. I settled instead on giving her a steely stare, knowing that was sufficient to communicate my meaning.

My eyes began to register what I was actually witnessing before me, and I suddenly froze. My mind went completely blank as my eyes left her horrified ones to study the rest of her.

Wow.

That was the first thing I thought. The second thing was: what an incredible body.

She was absolutely, breath-takingly gorgeous.

Time stopped altogether as I faced her, unable to tear my gaze away. I was too stunned to move, too conflicted to remember any of the previous anger I had felt. It was like I had never truly seen her before. The full display of her maturity, her woman-like body, blasted me in the face like a heady wind. I had seen her so many times, been around her so often. But then, she had only been a pretty student. I had seen her mostly in sporty clothes that hid her curves, with her hair tied up and her expression tightened in concentration and determination. This was an entirely new side of her, one that frightened me. How could she only be seventeen, with a body like that? And how could a seventeen-year-old girl look a full-grown man in the eyes with such confidence and cunning, like she knew exactly what I thought and felt?

She wore tight jeans, but her shirt had been discarded. Her expression was soft and unguarded, cheeks slightly flushed, lips red and swollen. Her brown eyes glowed slightly auburn in the dim light. They didn't waver as they fixed on mine.

Transfixed, I kept on studying her. I tore my gaze away from hers, instead letting my eyes roam down her body. It was perfect. An hourglass shape, with wide hips that practically swelled with ripeness, and –

Good god, how could anyone have a bosom like that? The skin glowed golden against the stark black of her bra; I had never seen anyone ever look so good in one before.

With her hair a tousled mess, her arm futilely crossed over her breasts, she looked like a cornered lioness.

I felt the heat of my fury transform into something else, something uncalled for. I was blasted by a burning desire to touch her, to see if her skin felt as smooth as it looked. I could see her respond to me, saw how she drew herself up, her chest rising and falling as her breath quickened. A rosy blush coloured her cheeks, and her eyes seemed to fill with a hot liquid. I found myself wondering what it might feel like to gaze into those eyes while I –

'You see something you like?' she asked. Her eyes, previously so inviting, now hardened with attitude. She thrust her breast out suggestively, in a manner intended only to provoke, effectively killing whatever had passed between us.

I snapped out of the trance and glared at her.

'Get dressed.'

Her confidence melted away, her features sobering up as she hastily reached for her shirt, covering up her startling nakedness. I felt a wave of relief, immediately pushing away the remnants of my troubling reaction.

'How'd you find me?' she asked uneasily. Then her voice turned snarky. 'You following me to make sure I don't run away?'

'Be quiet,' I snapped, leaning down so that we were at eye level. 'A janitor saw you and reported it.' I glared at her accusingly. 'Do you have any idea how stupid this was?'

'I know, I know,' she said wearily, 'the whole probation thing, right?'

'Not just that. I'm talking about the stupidity of getting in that kind of situation in the first place.'

Her eyes hardened at that. She pulled herself up, speaking harshly. 'I get in that kind of situation all the time, Comrade. It's not a big deal.'

Why did she always insist on using that term?

'Stop calling me that. You don't even know what you're talking about.'

'Sure I do,' she retorted. 'I had to do a report on Russia and the R.S.S.R. last year.'

'U.S.S.R.,' I automatically corrected. God, didn't the girl ever pay attention to her history classes? 'And it is a big deal for a Moroi to be with a dhampir girl. They like to brag,' I warned.

She lifted an eyebrow in annoyance. 'So?'

'So?' I repeated incredulously. I was disgusted; how could she not care whether a man treated her like trash or not? 'So don't you have any respect?' I continued. Then I realised which argument was the only one to go down with her. 'Think about Lissa. You make yourself look cheap. You live up to what a lot of people already think about dhampir girls, and it reflects back on her.' I couldn't help adding, 'And me.'

'Oh, I see,' she said, features twisting with sarcasm. I immediately regretted adding those last words. 'Is that what this is about?' She faked a pitiful expression. 'Am I hurting your big, bad male pride? Are you afraid I'll ruin your reputation?'

She was entirely missing the point. 'My reputation is already made, Rose. I set my standards and lived up to them long ago. What you do with yours remains to be seen.' I narrowed my eyes at her. 'Now get back to your room – if you can manage it without throwing yourself at someone else.'

Her face was a blend of amusement and shock. 'Is that your subtle way of calling me a slut?'

'I hear the stories you guys tell.' I recalled one in specific now. 'I've heard stories about you.'

At my words Rose started momentarily, before her eyes clouded with hot anger. Through my own anger and disappointment, I still felt a tinge of amazement at how completely her emotions consumed her. The girl had a beast inside her, clawing to get out. But whatever she was feeling now, however justified it may be, she knew I was right. Just like every other novice, she had to learn it the hard way. Guardians don't get what they want – that was real life.

And after a few seconds of consideration, I saw that she finally understood. Her anger faded, replaced by a feeling of almost...remorse. It hurt to see that kind of emotion on a young girl, but the truth was that there was no way around it. She needed to grasp the gravity of what she was becoming, the necessity of her service as guardian.

When her eyes went shiny with unshed tears, it became an effort to remain still. I wanted to comfort her, but remained where I stood, witnessing her internal battle. Waiting.

'Why is it wrong to...I don't know, have fun?' Her eyes met mine, a silent plea for me to understand. 'I'm seventeen, you know. I should be able to enjoy it.'

'You're seventeen,' I began, straining for words that would really drive it home, 'and in less than a year, someone's life and death will be in your hands.' I fixed my gaze on her. 'If you were human or Moroi, you could have fun. You could do things other girls could.'

'But you're saying I can't,' she said at last, with a tone of finality. I realised then that I had doled the cards out wrong, made it seem like the world was black and white, that she had to choose either side. But it wasn't truly like that, not really.

Her eyes bore into me, challenging, and I had to glance away. I thought of all the good times Ivan and I had shared, moments that weren't traditionally Moroi-guardian-like. He had been a good friend, the closest I had ever had outside of my family. We'd had fun together. Not the kind of fun Rose needed, but what kind it was didn't really matter. I'd lost my closest friend, but now I knew it was possible to gain another.

I decided to share.

'When I was seventeen, I met Ivan Zeklos. We weren't like you and Lissa, but we became friends, and he requested me as his guardian when I graduated. I was the top student in my school.' I shrugged when her one eyebrow popped up. 'I paid attention to everything in my classes' I explained, 'but in the end, it wasn't enough.' I looked down, regret tightening my chest as it had so many times before. 'That's how it is in this life. One slip, one distraction...' I sighed. 'And it's too late.'

Rose visibly swallowed, her eyes darting to the side, no doubt reflecting upon Lissa.

'Jesse's a Zeklos,' she suddenly said.

'I know.'

'Does it bother you?' she asked. 'Does he remind you of Ivan?'

While their appearance was very much the same, nothing about Jesse Zeklos remotely resembled the honest man in my charge. Not that it mattered.

'It doesn't matter how I feel,' I told her firmly. 'It doesn't matter how any of us feel.' When would she finally accept it?

'But it does bother you,' she protested. Her keen observance bothered me. I didn't like how easily she could pick up on things, how easily she could see through my façade. 'You hurt,' she continued, adamant. 'Every day. Don't you? You miss him.'

The way she said it hit home. I stared at her, surprised. Those liquid brown eyes, filled with so much kindness and empathy. She knew what it was like to be completely devoted to someone; of course she could recognise the pain I felt, the pain I tried to conceal from the world. But that pain was my own, and it was no good bleeding it out on anybody else. That's why I had vowed to not get attached again, not to anyone, so I wouldn't have to bare the pain of losing anyone again. I took it as a lesson, to be more careful, to harden the mask a little further. To not let anyone inside.

'It doesn't matter how I feel,' I repeated. 'They come first. Protecting them.'

'Yeah. They do.'

She regarded me in silence, and I searched her words for truthfulness. I may have lost Ivan, but Rose still had Lissa, and she had time to prepare, to be the best she could ever be. Her gaze didn't waver, her expression didn't change. Her hands remained still in her lap. Truthful.

'You told me you want to fight,' I said, 'to really fight. Is that still true?'

Her eyes lit up. 'Yes. Absolutely.'

'Rose...I can teach you, but I have to believe you're dedicated. Really dedicated. I can't have you distracted by things like this.' I gestured around the lounge, not trying to sugar coat what I was demanding of her. 'Can I trust you?'

Her eyes brimmed with tears still, and I saw that she was afraid. It was the only logical response to accepting such a great responsibility, but I knew she could do it. She just needed to believe it herself.

'Yes,' she said at last. 'I promise.'

'All right. I'll teach you, but I need you strong. I know you hate the running, but it really is necessary. You have no idea what Strigoi are like. The school tries to prepare you, but until you've seen how strong they are and how fast...well, you can't even imagine. So I can't stop the running and the conditioning. If you want to learn more about fighting, we need to add more trainings. It'll take up more of your time. You won't have much left for your homework or anything else. You'll be tired. A lot.'

It was a challenge. Would she take it?

'It doesn't matter. If you tell me to do it, I'll do it.'

I studied her hard, searching for the truth, trying to see through the layers, through everything she was on the outside and what she'd been conditioned to be. I tried to see into her core, to the drive and bravery that separated the great from the rest. Could she be that person? Was she enough for Lissa, the last of her name, the last of the most prominent royal bloodline in history? Could she represent the Dragomirs?

Just as I had the thought, her eyes filled with the fervour of smouldering coal, like an ember, a fire not yet fully aflame. With the right kind of fuel, she'd burn brighter than anyone before her.

Satisfied with my decision, I gave her a sharp nod. 'We'll start tomorrow.'