Chapter 22 Seren #2
I gritted my teeth. The sound of him filled my body with heat. “Get out of my mind, Rykr.”
“No swords,” I snapped. He’d be more likely to overpower me that way. “But he can use anything else he wants. Or we can start without them.”
Leaving the sword at the edge of the ring, I checked the weapons at the mouth of the ring, just outside the ropes. At any point in the match, I could grab one—if I could make it over there in time.
Jabari offered him a dagger and Rykr shook his head. “I don’t need it.”
Jabari crowed, smirking at me.
“You son of a bitch.”
Rykr smirked at me as we squared off. “Now who’s the noisy one? I thought you were working.”
“We were ordered to the sparring rings today.”
“And you came to visit me? I’m touched.” His eyes glinted. “You could have chosen another champion.”
The crowd around the ring had grown more silent, leaning forward with interest. Men and women were treated as equals in battle here, but Rykr had won so many matches that I doubted anyone would hedge their bets on me.
I ignored his tease. “You’re doing a good job displaying your skills to the tribe.” My gaze fixed on the pulse of the vein near his throat and the jagged rune there. “They’re going to see you as even more dangerous and watch you more closely.”
He shrugged. “I’m not particularly worried.” He gave me a sharp look. “I’m not planning on taking it easy on you. I don’t enjoy losing.”
“I’m shocked,” I said dryly. My exhaustion wouldn’t help anything, but I didn’t tell him that. He’d just think I was making preemptive excuses.
But he had to be tired, too.
I assumed the starting position, waiting for him to take his place.
The starting bell rang. Considering how easily he’d handled his last opponent, I’d have to be quick on my feet.
To win, I’d have to be the first to make three strikes that counted as fatal moves to my opponent—I’d be lucky if I could get one before Rykr did.
My best bet were daggers and spears, but I might do well without any weapons at all, too.
We circled each other, our eyes locked. “Did you miss me?” A cocky grin hooked up on one side of his lips.
Gods, he had a way of making me want to punch and kiss him at the same time.
My head tilted to the side as I considered a response, a spark of rebelliousness rising through me. “About as much as a hen misses a fox.”
“I’m assuming I’m the fox in this scenario?” His eyes glinted.
I launched forward, moving with speed as I jabbed him on his wounded forearm. He blocked my next jab—to his solar plexus—then attempted to catch my wrist as I spun a swift kick to his side.
Surprise lit his eyes and he lunged back, out of my reach.
“No, you’re the bastard who’s standing between me and breakfast. Stop talking and just fight me. I’m here to spar, not to talk.”
“Sounds like you’re not planning on winning.” One dark brow rose slightly. “My favorite part of sparring with a beautiful woman is when she’s not quiet. Don’t forget, Seren, this time we’re playing without chains.”
Son of a bitch.
I didn’t dignify the taunt with a response, leaping at him with a flurry of precise strikes.
He blocked about half of them, but each time my fist or the ball of my foot connected with him, served as a reminder of what I was up against: no softness here—punching Rykr was like taking my fists to a tree.
The pain fueled me, sharpening my focus.
“Why aren’t you feeling my pain anymore?” I asked as we circled each other.
“It was the first thing your mother taught me to block.”
“But we can still mind speak.”
“Different parts of the bond.” He tilted his head. “Is this your attempt to distract me?”
I gave him a pretty smile. “If I was trying to distract you, I’d do this.” I sent the raciest, sexual image I could muster down the bond. Then I delivered a hard, fast roundhouse kick to his shoulder, using the momentum to seize his wrist as he stepped back.
My fists wouldn’t win against him—I knew that much—so I shifted my approach.
Twisting his wrist, I wrenched his arm backward, forcing his body forward, between his legs.
I knocked his knee forward with my own and grabbed his ankle with my other hand, dragging his calf up and forcing him onto one knee.
As he caught himself, I used one fluid movement to pull a dagger from the sheath at my side and tip it to the back of his neck.
His shoulders heaved with quick breaths, and I leaned over him, my lips at his ear. “Guess I win this first round.”
Rykr turned his profile to me. “Not bad, solwyn. The image was a nice touch.” His hand slid up my wrist, grasping my forearm close to the elbow. “But not good enough.”
Before I could stop it, he’d flipped me over him onto the mat and I landed hard on my back.
Dots spun in my vision and I rolled out of his reach, gasping for breath.
As I stumbled to my feet, I rolled my shoulders, the sounds of the crowd sounding oddly distant.
My eyes connected with Amahle’s by the ringside. Worry lined her forehead.
I needed another win, and fast.
“Where’s Ciaran? Too afraid to get his ass handed to him after the other night?”
I struggled for another breath. “I don’t know how things work where you’re from, Rykr, but hurting my friends will never gain you my respect or trust. If you were wise, you’d stop bringing it up. He’s kept our secret, hasn’t he?”
He laughed, an easy, careless sound. “Sadly, I can’t say anyone has ever accused me of being wise.”
“That’s obvious.” I twirled one of my daggers. I couldn’t throw one and risk doing actual damage to him. Who knew how it might go for me if I actually hurt him?
I hesitated too long—Rykr lunged. I dodged, but not before he landed a blow to my side that sent me reeling.
Pain exploded up my ribs and I spun, jabbing an elbow into his kidney as I whirled to face him again.
He grunted, a flash of pain in his eyes telling me that he’d felt the blow he’d given me through the bond.
Taking advantage of that, I used my left hand to land a savage hook to his jaw, then slashed my dagger up, landing the blade right under his sternum.
A deep ache swelled from my own jaw. Dammit.
“I thought you were blocking the pain,” I ground out.
“You changed the rules on how we use the bond.” His eyes glimmered.
I’d won that round, though. A messy win, but a win, nonetheless. If it’d been a real match, he would have been dead. Jabari called the second strike in my favor.
One more, and I’d end the match. “I thought you planned on trying to win.” Sunlight glinted off the blade of my dagger.
“Maybe I was taking it easy on you to give myself a momentary break.”
I gawked at him. That was impossible. I’d won fairly.
But had I?
We squared off again.
“You’re overthinking your moves now, aren’t you?”
I scowled and flicked my wrist, my dagger flying straight for his thigh. “Stop that.”
He caught it by the flat side of the blade, flipping it smoothly into his grasp before sliding it into his belt. The casual display of skill sent a hot rush of frustration through me.
“And now you’ve lost a dagger.” The cockiness in his voice was just as loud in my head. “But if that impresses you, you should see how good I am at sheathing … my favorite sword.”
My cheeks burned. “You’re cheating.”
“By distracting you?” His face darkened. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that in a life-and-death situation, there’s no such thing as cheating?”
Blood rushed my face. “Obnoxious bastard.”
He smiled, then closed the gap between us in two steps. I twisted, bending backward out of his reach, but he swept my legs out from under me. As I started to fall, one powerful arm shot under the small of my back, catching me before I could land.
“My lady.” He’d said it loud enough that the crowd heard and roared with laughter.
I punched his jaw, getting a quick, cheap shot in while his hands were occupied. Some in the audience hooted in response, then I reached for the dagger he’d stolen.
Rykr swung me flat against the mat, knocking my breath away as he pinned me with the weight of his body. Grabbing my wrists, he held them above my head, his face inches above mine.
“I don’t know whether to kiss you or disarm you thoroughly in front of your friends and make a statement,” he gritted out, voice low and raw as his eyes burned into mine. “Then again … one is much more enjoyable.”
His mouth dropped close to mine. But instead of claiming my mouth, his breath warmed my cheek, his lips skimming my jaw, and he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss into the curve of my neck.
My body jolted in response, the yearning crashing through me with shocking force.
The same longing that had gripped me in our tent flared back to life, stronger now.
Relentless. His skin was damp with sweat, the raw, earthy scent of him invading my senses.
Maybe it wasn’t a kiss in the way I’d imagined—but that only made it worse.
Somehow, this was more intimate, and I felt completely exposed to him.
His tongue flicked against my throat, and my pulse pounding went wild.
The audience was laughing now, and my heart was rioting with both outrage and need.
Outrage won. I head-butted him, ripping away from the caress and attempting to roll out from under him as he careened back.
He slammed his hips and legs down over mine, immobilizing me further with his massive strength. The sudden weight sent a wicked jolt through me, my body betraying me as I fought against him and the unwanted heat curled between my legs.
“You’re not playing to your strengths.” His grip on my wrists stayed firm, while his free hand slid over my torso, down to my thigh.
I barely had time to realize his intent before he yanked my second dagger from its sheath.
“You never should have let me get this close to begin with.”
The blade pressed lightly against my throat, freezing me in place.
As if to drive his point home, he caught my earlobe between his lips, the same way I’d taunted him before. “Guess I’m catching up.”
My indignation boiled.
“Get off me, you fucking bastard.” The crowd around us was eating it up—leering, whispering. Enjoying the show a little too much.
He wasn’t just trying to beat me—he was humiliating me.
“Block them out. They’re not in the ring with you,” his voice hissed in my mind.
He released me and then offered a hand to help me stand.
I ignored it. “Stop doing that, Rykr, I mean it.” Then I wiped his kiss away from my neck with the palm of my hand. I could still feel him there, and my lips heated, desperate for more.
“Doing what? Talking to you or giving the audience a show? I thought you wanted a kiss.” He gave a wicked grin. “Though maybe I missed where you had in mind. Should I have aimed lower?”
Nyxva.
I glared, then skirted around him, making a break for the cache of weapons on the side of the ring. My hands closed around a spear, and I whirled back toward him, keeping him several feet away.
“Good choice.”
“Don’t you dare, you condescending prick.”
I had training. I’d won matches.
But never with someone who could rattle me this easily. Who got in my head, turned me inside out, and set fire to my thoughts.
I didn’t need to block the crowd.
I needed to block him.
Circling him slowly, I calculated my move. Daggers had been a mistake. He was faster, stronger. Spears were better.
Lunging, I extended the spear, stepping into the strike. He dodged out of it. “Don’t make the mistake of assuming I won’t grab that spear right out of your hands.”
I ignored his taunting, certain he was doing it to fluster me. I spun, leaping toward him with a finesse and speed that had served me well before in the past. The tip of my spear grazed his shoulder as he dodged out of the way again.
Then I flipped toward him. He retreated a step, and I swiped his legs, forcing him to jump over the spear.
His teasing vanished, his eyes never leaving me.
But he was still flawless.
I lunged again and he side-stepped, then charged. Swinging out, I drove the shaft of the spear into the side of his head. He caught the spear by the shaft, stopping it cold.
Shit.
Using my momentum, I flipped out of reach and let go. I landed on one knee, behind him.
“And now I have your spear.” He turned toward me, slowly.
I rose, breath steadying.
Rykr gripped the shaft, eyes glinting. “Word to the wise. Don’t hit your opponent in the side of the head with it.
Stab them through the eyes with the pointy end and make it count.
” With an effortless motion, he snapped the spear clean over his knee.
“But you did a better job blocking out the crowd.”
He was right. I hadn’t heard anything they’d been saying or their responses to my movements—until then.
The noise all crashed back in an instant, a cacophony to my ears.
He flew in the air toward me, stopping the tip of the broken spear just above my heart. “Strike two.”
My eyes narrowed at him. “Godsdamn you, Rykr.”
“Who says they haven’t already?” His voice was dry and unamused.
I was ready to be done. He’d embarrassed me enough.
My defeat must have shown in my face, or he’d heard it.
“Don’t give up now.” His order was flat, without goading. “It’s going to be much worse than this in the trial.”
“It’s already over.” Exhaustion weighed down my throbbing limbs. I needed sleep.
Rykr came closer. “Fight me. You’re one strike away from winning.”
“What’s the point, Rykr?”
“The point is that you don’t stop fighting until it’s over. You go down swinging.” He tossed the spear away. “Or we both die.”
I sighed. “There’s no winning with you.”
He frowned. Then he swung at me.
Instinct took over. I blocked him.
A sharp kick followed, which I dodged, followed by another punch.
The more he pressed, the less I thought. My body moved on its own, muscles responding in fluid, automatic precision. I fought him back like he knew I would. But I still wasn’t on the offensive.
His hand caught my shirt and he hauled my back against his chest, his bleeding forearm snugly pushing back against my breasts. “Fight me,” he growled in my ear.
“And what? Have you keep playing mind games?” I twisted slightly, glaring up at him.
“Don’t you get it? Mind games are a strategy. A strong mind is your most valuable weapon.”
A flash of silver hurtled in the air toward him.
A dagger. The sharp blade flying with precise aim right at his head. He had me too firmly in his grip to do anything, and I watched as time slowed as it drew closer.
Then Rykr’s other free hand shot out, at lightning speed, and he caught the blade inches before it reached him.
My heart slammed into my ribs.
How had he caught that?
And who had thrown a dagger at him?
Rykr dropped the dagger, only the faintest of scratches on his fingertips, and a hush fell over the crowd.
Seth stepped into the ring. “This match is over. I challenge the champion.”