Chapter 15 Silver
SILVER
The pit had been busy every day during my training, but the new trainees wouldn’t start until January, so there were only a couple of seasoned partners on the mats in the state-of-the-art gym where I’d sweated for the last year.
Kleos’s favorite place in the Guard and Hall of Truce was the archive; mine was the pit. She could lose herself reading dozens of dusty volumes in old languages no one else could understand. My brain shut off when I was moving, jumping, running, and most of all, fighting.
The square mats were lined with runes that made it impossible for anyone within to use magic, which was why I’d never been beaten in the pit.
A few people managed to make the fights challenging nonetheless—Gideon himself, as a half dragon, was strong and fast enough to sometimes get the best of me.
Alden Stillwater, a fae protector, rarely defeated me, but I also couldn’t win against him.
Fighting people who gave me a run for my money was fun.
Something told me, from the very moment I first met him, that fighting Cas would be very fun. And every time he opened his mouth, he made me want to find out just how much.
I stretched next to the mat, removing my jacket.
“You’re looking forward to this,” Cas noted, somewhat amused.
I didn’t deny it.
“I’m not going to take it easy on you, you know,” he added.
I chuckled. “Nor will I.”
And for the actual first time, I meant it.
Weeks ago, believing Lucian to be behind Kleos’s curse, I was pissed enough to attack him, but even then, I hadn’t used all my strength.
Not at first. Not until figuring out that I couldn’t break his bones by tugging too harshly.
By the time I realized I genuinely could let go and give it my all, he’d already incapacitated me.
Cassius Regis let me beat him at arm wrestling, but he wasn’t the brawler type. Too refined to want to sweat.
I didn’t have to restrain myself at all with Cas from the get-go, and something told me he enjoyed a good fight too. The only people I could fight with like that were my foster parents, and they were rarely around.
Cas stretched his neck to one side then the next, before stepping onto the mat.
If I wanted to play it smart, I’d wait, watch his first move, take his measure. But Cas spent the last few days getting on my nerves. I was tired, frustrated, and annoyed. I pounced.
Though I didn’t check my speed at all, and would have moved too fast for any of my usual sparring partners to even see me, let alone block my attack, Cas just sidestepped, hands in his pockets, with casual indifference that made me scream as I drew my fist back to punch his smug face.
The dick snorted, grabbing my wrist before twisting it behind my back. “Ten points for enthusiasm, zero for skill,” he noted.
Enraged, I brought my foot up to his groin.
He blocked it and let go of me. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”
I flushed in humiliation. I was supposed to be a great fighter, dammit. No one ever beat me. And yet, the way this man moved made me feel as clumsy as bloody Irwin Clover.
I sped up. I tried to be less direct, feigning a low kick to his knees before swerving and punching instead.
He blocked. He evaded. He grinned, snorted, and rolled his eyes.
Damn him, I was starting to get winded. I’d never worked at this speed for so long. Usually, my adversary was on their ass by now.
“Should I close my eyes and bind a hand behind my back to even things up?”
“Fuck you!” I yelled, punching with renewed vigor.
Cas chose to do the most humiliating thing yet: he stayed still, letting me slam fist after fist against his bare chest.
As ineffective as my attacks were, it felt satisfying, like finally finding a punching bag strong enough for me to use without breaking it in five minutes. Plus, this punching bag had the most annoying smirk in the universe, which made each punch sweeter than the last.
In the end, I grunted and sat down on the floor, winded, sweaty, and thoroughly trounced.
I lost. He never even attacked and I lost. I expected that watching a tiny little house cat fighting against Kleos’s monster at full size would have been equally pathetic.
Cas sat in front of me in silence. I couldn’t bear to meet his gaze after my mortifying defeat, so I closed my eyes.
“Why do you pretend to be human?” he asked.
I frowned. “What?”
“You fight like a human. I don’t understand it.”
I opened my eyes, surprised to see him confused rather than smug. “That’s how I’ve always fought. And I usually win.”
He shrugged. “You would, against mortals. A dragon would win against a dormouse, regardless of the dragon’s ability.
I’m not saying that learning to move with skill and speed isn’t without value, but what you’re doing—going for the soft tissues with your fists—is like a fleabite to a god.
And your enemies are gods. You ought to train yourself to fight them. ”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, digesting his advice.
When Zeus attacked, he summoned lightning bolts that destroyed everything they touched. They would have destroyed me if Apollo hadn’t flown me out of the way.
Finally, I settled on, “I don’t have any magic.”
“Today, you still have mine.”
I kept forgetting. “Well, what’s the point in training myself to use something I only have for a couple of days?” I snapped.
Cas tilted his head. “Good point. Your focus ought to be recovering your abilities. You won’t survive long without them.”
His words hit me like a freight train.
I’d survived just fine for twenty-four years magicless, yes, but now Zeus knew I was here. And his first reaction to finding me had been to chuck a million volts right at me.
“I don’t know where to start with that,” I confessed, kicking myself for sharing something so personal with Cas.
“Want me to help?”
My jaw ticked.
He was untrustworthy. Potentially an enemy. I definitely shouldn’t open up to him, no matter how right he was.
Apollo told me himself: he sealed my power within hours on the day I was born. I didn’t need Cas to figure out my magical ineptitude, I needed my annoying divine twin.
“No,” I replied, getting to my feet. “I’ll figure it out. And then we can spar again.”
“Looking forward to it, doll.”