Free Rise of the Fallen by Donya Lynne

eyed the loaded bar with concern then dropped his gaze
to the faint, almost-healed scars on his arms. Arms that probably looked much
too thin to Ari to be pushing that kind of weight.
    "You got something to say to me, Ari?" Micah's
gruff voice was full of fuck-off-and-mind-your-own-business. It was clear Arion
thought Micah's head was screwed on either too loosely or too tightly, but
either way, it meant he thought Micah was in no shape to be here working, let
alone pumping out eight reps at 315 pounds.
    Arion shrugged, wavering briefly. The two had never gotten
along, and Micah had a way of intimidating those around him. Maybe it was his
brooding silence or the ever-present scowl that never left his face. Hell, it
could have been the nonverbal fuck-off his body language threw out like a
warning beacon: Leave this one alone, or he'll fuck your world right to hell
and back.
    But Arion always seemed to find the courage – or was that
stupidity – to go on chasing the Devil. Fucking hell, did Ari think he was a
priest and Micah was a soul that needed saving? Sometimes Micah wondered if the
fucker had a death wish or if he simply enjoyed stirring Micah's pot. Every
time they had one of these discussions, Micah thought Arion was ready to back
down – that he had finally realized that Micah didn't appreciate his invasive
prodding. Then he seemed to gather his courage and plod on, pissing Micah off
even more. As if Arion had room to talk for the fucked up life he lived. One of
these days real soon Micah had a feeling he and Ari were going to throw down if
this shit didn't stop.
    He just wanted to be left alone. Let his soul burn in hell.
As long as it meant he would have his privacy, Micah didn't care.
    "Where have you been, Micah?" Arion said, shaking
his head in frustration.
    Micah turned his head and glowered. The little asshole had
done it again, keeping on when he should have just walked away.
    "Fuck off."
    "You look like shit. How much weight did you lose?
Thirty pounds? How much? And what the hell did you do to your arms?"
    This was how Arion was, a pain in his ass and a thorn in his
side. "Who died and made you my conscience?" Standing, Micah blew him
off and started to walk away, but that little cuss just got up and followed.
    "Nobody, but…"
    Micah spun and grabbed Arion by both shoulders and shoved
him against the wall, growling. "Everyone else gives me my space, why
can't you?" Giving him another hard shove, he knocked the back of Ari's
head against the wall.
    A chuckle brought Micah's head around. The door to the gym
was propped open and Trace was standing just outside, a spank-ass grin
splattered on his puss as he nodded once at Micah. He chuckled again and walked
on.
    Micah turned back and released Ari and smoothed his
sweat-soaked hair off his face.
    Ari's eyes flashed wide as he reached around and rubbed the
back of his skull.
    "What's going on?"
    Micah turned again and saw Severin enter the training
center, his long, blond hair pulled back. The new guy whipped the towel from
over his shoulder, his eyes flicking between Micah and Arion before leveling an
icy glare on Micah.
    "Nothing," Micah said. "Ari and I were just
finishing. He was agreeing to leave me alone. Weren't you, Ari?" Micah
gave Ari a pointed look to emphasize that their discussion was over.
    "I can see that." Severin stepped in front of
Arion and bristled as if preparing for a fight.
    Micah picked up the protective energy rolling off Severin
like ripples in water after a rock broke the surface. He frowned curiously
through narrowed eyes as he glanced back and forth between them. What the fuck
was brewing between these two?
    "It's okay, Sev," Arion said, stepping out from
behind him.
    "No, it's not okay." Sev looked over his shoulder
at Ari. "He's being a dick."
    Micah scoffed, drawing Severin's attention again. "Cool
out, pretty boy. I won't hurt your boyfriend. And you couldn't take me,
anyway."
    "You think?" Sev tossed his towel to the