Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
M aalikai turned with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Training,” he said. “No distractions.”
I swallowed the dread that had crept in the second Sebastian disappeared into the trees. The echo of his absence still clung to my ribs, raw and hollow
So I smirked instead. Lifted my chin like I hadn’t just fractured from the inside. “You saying I’m a distraction?”
“More like a liability,” he smirked, stepping back to let me pass. “But a dangerous one.”
He looked delicious this morning. He had a worn asymmetrical leather overcoat, and black leather pants, and I saw at least three daggers strapped to his torso and thigh. His hair was swept away from his face, drawing attention to the brutal beauty of his cheekbones–so perfectly carved, it was as if the Gods themselves had chiseled them.
It wasn’t fair–how easily he could steal the air from my lungs.
He removed his overcoat, throwing it in a heap on the ground. Underneath, he wore a long sleeved black shirt, pushing up his sleeves until they rested just above his elbows.
We circled each other in silence. But the quiet wasn’t empty. It pulsed—tight with heat. With challenge. With tension barely contained.
“Weapons or no weapons?” he asked.
“No weapons,” I replied. “I wouldn’t want to mark that pretty little face of yours.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried, Princess.”
“I beg to differ, judging by our last sparring match.”
He began circling again, slowly, gaze never leaving mine. The ground beneath us was firm, packed dirt—perfect for a fight. I adjusted my stance, loosening my shoulders.
“You cheated,” he said, voice low and amused.
“No,” I said, rolling my neck with a smirk. “You’re just a sore loser.”
That grin. Gods help me—that grin should’ve been illegal.
And then he lunged.
I twisted away at the last second, brushing past him as his fingers snapped out to catch me. I ducked beneath his grip, spun, aimed a palm at his chest.
He caught my wrist midair.
Our eyes locked.
“Fast,” he murmured.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Using his grip as leverage, I pivoted low and swept a kick toward his legs. He jumped, barely clearing it—and I was already coming back in for another strike.
We collided—motion and muscle and heat. Each block, each dodge, each breath, stoked the fire between us. He caught my elbow, I dodged his counter. His movements were precise, controlled. Mine were fluid, unpredictable. Our bodies moved in a rhythm that bordered on violent intimacy.
Then—he faked high and swept my legs from under me.
I hit the ground hard.
Before I could react, he was on me, his weight pressed over mine, one hand gripping my wrist, the other planted beside my head. His knee pinned between my thighs, effectively caging me beneath him, almost tasting the warmth of me.
“You’re holding back,” he breathed, voice rough and close to my ear.
“I’m not.” I whispered, defiant.
“You are.”
My chest rose and fell against his. Every inch of my skin buzzed. Not from the fall.
From him.
It was his proximity.
His heat.
Using my hips and momentum, I twisted—hard. We rolled, and suddenly I was straddling him, pinning him to the ground with my knees on either side of his hips, my hands braced on his chest. His warmth pulsed beneath my thighs.
The way he shifted into me without meaning to, caused an ache that was impossible to ignore. Instinctively, my thighs tightened, unintentionally squeezing my body impossibly tighter, to the point of breaking.
"Princess," his voice was a rasp, his eyes stormy.
I cleared my voice. “Still think I’m holding back?” I challenged.
His lips curled. “I think you’re just getting started.”
His hands slid over my thighs, slow and steady, settling at my hips. Not forceful. Not demanding. Just… claiming space. Holding me there. He didn’t move to flip us again. Didn’t even try to escape.
He just… looked at me.
Like I was a war he wanted to lose.
Silence fell—thick, charged, crackling.
I leaned in, not quite kissing distance but close enough that our breath tangled together as one.
I froze. Nope. I couldn't fight this, not when he touched me like that.
Within a heartbeat I was on my feet. My pulse was erratic and sinfully his. The space between us was charged with something consuming.
He rose with liquid grace, no hesitation, no gloating.
My next strike wasn’t calculated—it was impulsive. Hot. Fierce. I needed to land a hit. Needed to prove something I couldn’t name.
He deflected it.
And the next.
And the one after that.
“Keep your core tight,” he said between blows. “Throw your weight into it. Don’t hold back on my account.”
“I’m not,” I spat through gritted teeth.
But I was. Not with my fists—but with everything else.
A pause.
We stood toe to toe, chest to chest, breathing the same air.
He dipped his head, capturing my gaze. “Princess…”
His fingers found my hips and tightened.
I attacked without a word. He caught my wrist midair again, yanked me forward. I nearly slammed into his chest, but stopped short, muscles locked.
He didn’t let go.
Instead, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. Gently. Reverently.
The breath caught in my throat. That single touch undid me more than any blow could have.
I yanked my hand back, heart stammering. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not fighting fair.”
He grinned. “I never said I would.”
I faked high–a sharp jab toward his cheek, baiting him with my eyes. His guard flew up instinctively–but the real strike was lower. A vicious hook slammed into his ribs, sharp and fast, knocking the wind from his lungs before he could curse.
He staggered.
Not from the pain.
From the humiliation–from the sharp echo of his own miscalculation.
That’s when I saw it.
Not the flicker of amusement that had been there seconds ago. No more humble restraint. No more teasing.
This was challenge.
A real challenge.
Not the playful shit he’d been coaxing me with—thiswas him coming for blood.
And I was ready for it.
His fist came flying at my face—fast, sharp, unforgiving. I dropped. Bent at the knees and slipped beneath his arm, using his own balance against him.
He stumbled half a step—just enough—and I drove my elbow back, aiming for ribs. He caught it—of course he did—but I was already twisting, already pivoting, already coming at him with a wild, snapping kick toward his thigh.
Contact.
He grunted, stepped back, and we separated—circling now, breath heavy, eyes locked.
He smirked, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "You done showing off?"
"Hardly."
I surged forward, bloodied fists clenched tight–if he wanted a war I’d give him one worthy of legends.
Right jab—blocked. Left hook—ducked. Knee to the gut—he caught it, gripped my thigh with maddening ease—I used it, jumped off the other foot, vaulted over him and landed behind his back.
He spun just in time to meet my boot to his chest.
He stumbled.
Laughed.
Gods, he was enjoying this.
I didn’t let up. We clashed again—hands, feet, sweat, breath.
No weapons. No magik. Just muscle and memory.
Every strike was a flirtation.
Every block, a dare.
Every graze of skin, a promise not yet made.
I barely had time to breathe before he was moving—fast, fluid, deadly. I struck high again, a brutal hook aimed at his jaw—he blocked it, twisted, and caught my wrist. With a flick of force and a turn of his hips, Maalikai spun me around so fast the ground tilted—my back slammed into his chest, breath knocked from my lungs.
His breath skimmed my ear, voice low and taunting. "You're trembling?"
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I elbowed back into his ribs, spun, and shoved him.
He let it happen.
We crashed into the dirt, rolling, wrestling for dominance—but this time it wasn’t about winning. It was something more.
Something animalistic.
He pinned me again, body hovering above mine, his knee sliding between my legs, this time it did caress me.
His forehead dropped to mine. “Say the word and I'll stop.”
I didn’t.
He surged down.
And we collided.
Lips. Bodies. Souls.
We weren’t fighting anymore.
We were burning.
An exquisitely gentle finger glided over my cheek, catching a tear I hadn’t realised escaped.
“Princess…”
Silence unfurled between us as Maalikai respected my inability to answer. I remained frozen. Broken. I didn’t know if I could survive the hurt that felt inevitable if I allowed myself to unapologetically love him.
But I knew—deep in my marrow—that I couldn’t keep fighting this.
Fighting the magnetic pull between us.
It was easier to sit here, teetering on the edge of limbo, where hope still breathed and heartbreak hadn’t yet struck.
Warmth encased my hand as Maalikai threaded his fingers through mine. The contact was a jolt to the soul—an electric awareness that snapped my eyes to his.
Azure orbs locked onto mine, stripping me bare. Whatever remained of my resolve disintegrated under that gaze.
Around us, the thick canopy of leaves held the world at bay. We were sealed inside our own quiet bubble. Our sanctuary.
“I should probably go.” I whispered.
“Please don’t.” His breath rose in visible tendrils, steam curling into the cool air like smoke.
I avoided his gaze, but I couldn’t ignore the way his presence pressed into my skin. The heat of him brushed my neck—not touching, but close enough that my body trembled with the ache of it.
Somehow, Maalikai kept finding his way through every wall I’d built, like they were nothing. And now he was here—so close—and I had nothing left to give but what was already his.
My soul was bare.
And it was his for the taking.
“Princess.”
His voice was rough silk, and when I met his gaze again, I was caught.
The depth of it. The hunger. The hope . It was soul-consuming.
“You know how I feel about you,” he said. “So if you don’t feel the same... that’s fine. You just have to tell me.”
There was no arrogance in his voice. Only uncertainty. Maalikai’s vulnerability crackled in his eyes like bolts of blue lightning.
My eyes fluttered closed.
My mind could no longer fight what my heart had already surrendered to.
“I want you.” The words trembled from my lips, fragile but true.
“What?” His voice broke—soft, disbelieving. Like he couldn’t trust what he’d just heard.
“I want to know what it’s like to be with you. To be loved by you.”
“Of course.” The words were reverent. Immediate.
I looked down, a breath catching in my throat.
“But you need to know… this doesn’t mean I’ve made a choice. It still might be him.”
Maalikai nodded slowly.
No bitterness in his eyes. Only fire.
“As long as you give me a chance to show you what it feels like to be loved by me.”
Then his lips found mine.
Warm.
Sure.
Devouring.
A kiss that didn’t just claim me—it unmade me.
Everything else dissolved.
We kissed in our stolen sanctuary, with light rain dappling the leaves above, the trees whispering around us like they already knew this was a moment that mattered.
A moment that might break us—or bind us.
And I let myself fall.