FALLEN | rowan whitethorn x oc

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - i'll hurt anyone who hurts gavriel

They stayed in Morath for longer than Isabella could have imagined. They had never stayed in one place for so long, not even Kilax's home. But neither of the males seemed in a hurry to leave.

And Isabella could not complain. Mostly, because there was nothing to complain about.

Gavriel gave her three free days before she was awoken in the middle of the night by Fenrys, who told her she had to wake up and run with him. When she had -not so- sleepily told him to fuck off he'd only told her that it was part of her training. Isabella had groaned, but also dressed up and followed him into the woods. Fenrys shifted, and she was forced to follow him. They ran for an hour and a half, and Isabella's legs practically gave up after that; even though she knew it could have been worse, because Fenrys hadn't run as fast as he could have.

Lorcan had taken it upon himself to teach her how to properly 'end someone's life in less than five moves'. His words, not hers. So he taught her where to place her punches to wound someone the most, what to do with her feet in the process, and how to shield herself. She knew she was bad at it, and that she still had a lot to learn, but it was calming to know where to put pressure on someone's neck to cut their air supply.

Gabriel was all about balance. Sometimes he had her standing still for hours, only moving her toes as he ordered. She liked to joke with him that he had a foot fetish, but she knew that having a strong position and balance, full control over her body was as important as Lorcan's teaching on how to strike for the heart.

Rowan was the strictest of them all. He barely gave her room for mistakes, and when she did, he didn't make her stop until she got it right. His lessons were the longest, and the ones she resented the most because his training attitude was so different to the sides of him he'd shown her.

But, oh well.

And during the night, when they were all cleaned after a warm bath, and full after eating, they went drinking. The bar in the inn was popular, and even those who were not staying in the building came in for a drink or two.

Isabella loved to see their drunk attitudes. How silly and open and more affectionate they were when the alcohol finally kicked in.

But most of all, she loved that they talked. They told her about Doranelle's beauty, and then how a big part of it was now ruined because of the Novyk. Lorcan told her he'd never met his parents -though she already knew that- and that his best friend ever had been Rowan. He told her they met when the younger male was nothing but a bratty twenty-six year old, and that they had practically hated each other from the moment they had locked eyes. It took them months of fights and bickering and an almost death situation for them to finally get along. But after that, it was good.

Fenrys told her of his first love. He had been fifteen, and she, 237 years old. A married female, on top of that. She had been a friend of his mother, and Fenrys had always thought of her as the 'hottest thing to walk on earth' -his words-. He told her that, one day, he thought he'd noticed her eyeing his ass so he'd gone for it. He'd kissed her, and her response had been to push him away.

"She rejected me in a very cruel and rude way, if you ask me, though I did kiss her without her permission" He'd said.

"And that was it?" Isabella had frowned.

"Not at all. I was so mad and unsatisfied that I ended up fucking her husband as revenge" Fenrys' smile had been all naughtiness.

Isabella had arched an eyebrow, "Consensually?"

Fenrys'd rolled his eyes, "Duh. He didn't take much convincing"

She laughed, and then the three males all snickered at the comment. Lorcan began to bother Gavriel so he would tell her his romantic stories. Apparently, they were all considered a big failure.