Page 132 of Glutton for Punishment

“Actually,” Ryker interrupts, “if we’re discussing poor choices, I’d say publicly antagonizing a bonded student whose family is now on the Council and controls most of the trade routes is a pretty stupid one.”

The room stills as Tally turns slowly. “Excuse me?”

Ryker leans back in his chair like he’s lounging poolside instead of detonating a classroom.

“You heard me.” His voice sharpens. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

A couple of people choke trying not to laugh.

Ryker gestures toward me. “And for the record? Davies answered correctly. Alcohol distribution and weapons manufacturing are two of Gluttony’s largest exports. If you actually cared about teaching instead of making some weird political statement, you’d recognize that.”

Tally flushes deeper. He’s not going to go toe to toe with Ryker, who has a very good claim for the open Greed Councilor role. His eyes flick toward Atticus to see if he’ll step in to fight his battle for him.

Bad choice.

Atticus is still staring at him with cold fury. Tally straightens, realizing this class has turned against him.

“Miss Davies,” he says tightly, “return to your seat.”

I hold his gaze another second before walking back down the aisle towards my seat.

As I pass Ryker and give him a look, he gives me a tiny shrug like: What? Someone had to do it.

Unfortunately, when I glance toward Atticus… he looks like he wants to strangle Ryker with his bare hands.

Fantastic.

The second class ends; chaos erupts. Students flood into the hallway buzzing with gossip while I shove books into my bag as fast as possible.

I barely make it out the door before Ryker slams into the wall beside the entrance.

“What are you playing at?” Atticus snarls. His forearm presses against Ryker’s chest while students scatter backward to watch from a safe distance.

Ryker shoves him back just as hard.

“Oh, now you want to defend her?” he snaps. “Interesting timing, Willshire.”

Atticus’s eyes darken dangerously. “Careful.”

“No,” Ryker bites out. “You sat there and let him tear into her.”

My stomach twists. Atticus steps closer. “You know nothing about this situation,” he says under his breath.

“I know you looked pathetic,” Ryker fires back. “If you won’t stick up for your own bond, someone has to.”

The hallway goes silent. Atticus moves so fast I barely catch it. He slams into Rykers face with a right hook that honestly impresses me.

“Say that again,” Atticus says softly.

As much as I’d love to watch a beat-down of Ryker, I know it’d bring too much unwanted attention. Men are exhausting.

“HEY!” I shove between them before one of them starts a full faction war in the hallway. “Can you cool your testosterone? Or did you both become Wrath in the past five minutes?”

Neither moves. Both are still glaring at each other over my head like apex predators.

I throw my hands up. “Unbelievable.” I jab a finger toward Atticus. “You—stop trying to murder people who talk to me.”

Then toward Ryker. “And you—stop acting like some white knight. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know exactly who you are.”