Brooks grabbed her wrist and half-dragged her to her office without saying a word. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was tight enough to tell her his head was spinning. Abby didn’t fight him. One look at his face told her everything she needed to know.
Brooks was twenty-one, two years younger than her, and had just been promoted to assistant warrior trainer three months ago. Unlike Abby, no one could ever claim he got anywhere because of their father. Watching Brooks fight shut that argument down fast. He’d earned every inch of his reputation.
He shut the office door hard behind them, crossed the room, and flicked the monitor off with a sharp jab of his finger. When he turned back to her, his green eyes – hers and their mother’s exact shade – were bright and wild. His whole body looked coile
