17. The bonds that break #2
“If you’re going to pout, fine. Don’t let this be the reason you fail.”
“I’m not pouting, just stating facts. If you choose to fight me while I’m constricted, fine, take the victory however you can; I guess.” Her nose scrunches and lips curl, proving my point. By the Gods, she’s infuriating. Like I need an advantage.
Sliding my hands back into the pockets of my black sweatpants, I counter, “If you don’t like what you’re wearing, change it.”
“Our dorm is far, and I can’t use sigil magic, so walking or running won’t get me back in time.” Scowling, she flings her left plait behind her shoulder, leaving only the right one, and I tsk at her implication.
“The fay of creation who can’t create? How promising,” I sigh. “Figure something out. I’m not waiting all day.” I nod my head towards the clock behind me as the ten second timer goes off.
“How the fu…” She pauses, catching the raise of my brow, then blows a breath.
“How am I supposed to do that, Ethan?” She throws her hands up.
This must be a mortal trait, them speaking with their hands.
It’s exasperating. “Let me guess, not your problem?” Her eyes roll, and I’ll admit, it makes me smirk. Now she is getting it.
With a tick of my wrist, I summon a barrier around us. A transparent box, aligned with my golden sigils for blocking out onlookers in case she botches this spell. “You’ll practice changing here.”
She scoffs, giving my summoning a once-over. “Not in front of you, I won’t. Others will speculate, and in case you didn’t know, there are already rumors spreading that we’re sleeping together,” Kyra whispers, her head swiveling for those listening.
“Does it look like I care about rumors?” Tracing her body, I force back a sneer. “It wouldn’t have spread had you not kicked me out that night.” I challenge her to object.
“Then stop showing up uninvited. Only Angie has that permission, not you.”
“You’re wasting time. Change or attack.”
She huffs, and her frustration blends with anxiety. Not knowing how to articulate the words, she shouts, “Look away! I don’t want you seeing my…seeing anything in case I mess up.”
“I’ve viewed what you have to offer, and it’s nothing I’m interested in. Get on with it.”
Shutting her eyes, she mutters, “I can’t stand you.” She turns with her back facing me and creates a flash of red light that vanishes just as fast as it appears. Not only did she fail the attempt, but by the Gods what is she wearing?
My brows rise in confusion, and the sting over my gums returns.
That inner beast rattles its chains to escape, and I press down on its hunger.
No. Here she stands in only a black thong, matching socks, and a workout jacket that stops right above her panty line, framing the divots of her back dimples.
“Look away!” she screams, placing a hand behind her back with an attempt of covering up.
Not helping the situation. My gaze travels from her tightly knitted plaits, carving a line down her jacket, to the bare skin of her…
I divert. Yet the image continues burning within my mind.
“This is why I didn’t want you in here, and you better not be staring at my ass, Ethan!
” I don’t bother dignifying that with a response.
Because I’m not.
Another flash of red appears, blanketing her body, and I peek over.
Now she wears a pair of thin workout tights, a sports bra, and no shoes.
“This is getting ridiculous.” My steps echo as I approach.
“Turn around.” But as always, Kyra defies me, testing my patience, and I’m close to reminding her that I have none.
My jaw clenches and throat vibrates on the next word. “Turn.”
Reluctantly, she does, slowly, until facing me while covering the top part of her breasts, ensuring my reddish gold hues remain on her frown.
“What?” she bites.
“Focus. Whatever you’re thinking about isn’t working.
Calm your mind and center on what you’re trying to create.
Simple. I’ve gone over every scroll predating the first of our kind and discovered a fay with similar abilities to yours, though not the same.
It takes more than just visualizing your desires, you need to feel it.
Now, do it again. You won’t get another chance. ” I back away.
Her hands fall into firm fists by her sides, and she glares as I drink her in with a sluggish swallow. The peak of her breasts vibrate from her heart’s sudden spike. Good, get angry. Kyra turns, and a few seconds after, that red flare shrouds her body then vanishes.
About time she got it right. Against my will, I relish in this small victory, knowing she will be worth the kill and not a weakling fay.
“Yes!” she bellows, peering down at the full workout attire now correctly in place.
Kyra adjusts her position, facing me, and I quickly strike a blow to her stomach, using the ball of my heel. She meets the ground with a wheezing cough, gasping, and curls into a ball. “Get. Up.”
“W–Wh…What” * pant* “The…F–Fuck!”
My assumptions may have been in haste. She indeed is weak. “Language, now get up.” I stand inches from her head. She takes a couple breaths, trying to regain her bearings. “We don’t have time for you to take breaks. If you’re going to be weak, be that elsewhere.”
She coughs, “F–Fuck you. That was a cheap shot, and you know it.”
“Like I said, we’re starting after that last attempt.
It’s not my problem you forgot. And before you try it, no, you cannot forfeit the match.
We’re fighting whether you like it or not.
” Kyra stumbles upon her feet, eyes glistening with pain and vexation, and I stretch my arms open as an invitation. “Come at me with everything you have.”
“Fine.” Her tone becomes primal.
She rushes me with lackluster speed, swinging for my head, and I duck under the attack. Using her momentum, I grab the back of Kyra’s neck and arm, pressing her body firmly against my barrier and hold her in place. “Pathetic. Try again.”
Her body worms to break free, rubbing against my own, and every soft and plump section of her body sends my aura into a chaotic rotation.
Releasing my grasp and creating space, she lunges again, another strike aimed at my head.
I catch her hand, yanking her towards me, and wrap my other arm around her waist.
“Let. Me. Go,” she growls.
“Weak,” I whisper, “not nearly enough to keep me from ending you, and I loathe easy prey.” Constricting her tightly, I relinquish a groan as Kyra’s fragrance engulfs my senses, and my mind blanks.
Citrus mixed with floral and blended with a hint of bewitching.
My thoughts remove me from the now, and I shove her away.
But she recovers swiftly. Her strike catches the bridge of my nose and blurs my vision. Pain dissipates the image of a false reality I conjured.
“You don’t get to touch me!” Kyra snarls, hiding her bruised knuckles, and a smile creeps over my face. This is the first time she has been close enough to touch me. Finally, the idea of killing Kyra seems…exciting.
“Good. Now do it again. ”
Time ticks on, and with each passing minute, she grows more tiresome.
Arduous, failed attempts of using her magic have left her movements sluggish and heavy.
She is exasperated and barely able to stand during the last five minutes, but I don’t let up.
Grabbing her arms, I kick both legs out from under her, and we plummet to the floor as she shrieks from the sudden movement.
Kneeling between her legs with my full weight bearing down, I hear her exhale through blood-stained lips.
That forbidden citrus, intertwined with the scent of copper, lingers on my tongue, and I swallow thickly, savoring her defeat .
She jerks against the bonds of our clasped fists positioned over her head, and I lean into her ear.
“I expected more from someone who wields the magic you do.” Repositioning, I now peer into her doe-ish hazel eyes.
“You don’t deserve to be here,” I growl, watching them dart between mine.
She thrusts with an offensive movement, and my grip tightens.
“This would be an opportune juncture to end you. No official challenge required.” Tears swell as she watches me with caution, searching for a lie.
“You can’t do that.” Her voice is soft and worn out. “By fay rules, I must be within the thousand ranking, and it must be an official challenge.” She breathes heavily.
“I’ll endure such punishments if it means your life ends here and now.”
Our silence appears to reverberate at first listen. *Thrum–Th–Thrum* It repeats. Turning more physical than audible, until I realize that our hearts have fallen in sync with one another. Hers pounds out of fear, and mine…ecstatic to hear it cease.
“Do it then. You have me where you want me, and no one’s here to stop you,” Kyra says with conviction, yet her words taste like panic and silent pleas. I adjust so both of her hands are captive in one of mine, then summon a golden dagger.
The blade kisses her neck’s soft flesh, and its frigid touch causes tiny bumps to form around it. Her vein beneath it throbs faster. It will only take a slight rotation of my wrist to slice right through it and watch her blood bleed out.
She watches me through cascading tears, refusing to shy away.
Within them is every answer, truth, and lie that has eluded me for years.
The longer I peer, the deeper I’m pulled in, finding myself searching for an explanation and becoming lost. Kyra’s breath shortens on each one taken, and her lids close, keeping my thoughts imprisoned as if she is accepting her fate.
With a flash of red light, she explodes out of my clutches, flipping me over, and straddles me in one motion. Placing a warm blade of her own against my neck, she nicks my skin, drawing blood. Kyra leans down, merely inches from my face, and speaks.
“Don’t ever think killing me will come easy.
I may not be as strong as you, but remember this, Death will not have me.
Not now, not ever. If you’re a hurdle I must go through to get to Her, so be it.
But pick a God and pray you’re not. Because Ethan…
” Leaning lower, she places her lips against my ear.
“Whether you like it or not, I will get to Her. Nothing you do will stop me. So, either teach me, or move the fuck out of my way.”
She sits up with her blade still in position, keeping her full weight pressed down on my hips, and those eyes–Bold…
Obstinate…Noteworthy…Doubtless. Every ounce of her mother flourishes, which only makes my hatred burn brighter.
The same look her mother set upon my father before killing him and taking the last of my parents. A nightmare that still haunts me.
“This’ll be your only chance at killing me, little Nova. I suggest you not squander it.” I raise my head slightly as her dagger pierces deeper into my flesh and draws more blood.
Clenching her thighs tighter from my movement, she nestles over my hips, and a sudden heat enters me.
She glances down then snaps back to meet my gaze.
Still wearing conviction and now something more, I can see Kyra contemplating my offer.
The same flick of her wrist would slice my vein and turn her into the monster I know she is becoming .
“Why, Ethan? Why do you insist on killing me as if I’m the villain in your story? You don’t know me, and I, you. So just…Why?”
The alarm sounds, ending our forty-five minutes, and a wave of energy, not of my own, knocks Kyra off me. The force is strong enough to send her flying, and I stand in haste.
“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.” I scoff in disappointment then raise a hand and remove the barrier. My will and brewing anger must have been strong enough to defend myself without me commanding it. An ability I’ll look into. “This training session is over. Get out,” I yell.
Everyone halts and blows a thankful breath. Surveying the room, I see that most students had already stopped due to running out of magic or damn near depleting it. Those still standing, quickly gather their belongings and race for the exit. The others follow promptly.
Alise stops as I pass her and grabs my arm. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“All the same, thank you,” she insists before running to aid her friend.
Kyra’s mother killed Alise’s father as well, so, for the life of me I don’t understand why she wants her alive. Something Alex and her have in common. I understand Angie’s reasoning. She has nothing to do with that, and in fact, their mothers were best friends. Though neither are aware.
Making my way over to one of the black, wooden benches, I perch and watch the last students clear out. I heal my wound with trembling fingers, reflecting in peace when a dark glow interrupts my solace.
“Is your magic topped off?” Alex asks, stepping out of a black sigil and approaching.
“Overflowing.” I look down at my hands, now relaxed. His aura invades my space, testing, and I respond in kind. My vision glows gold, and he halts once my aura slams into his.
“Good. You’re going to need every ounce of it.
” His own stare is a cloud of stormy gray, now encased by a midnight gleam.
“I suggest you change,” he adds, giving me a once-over.
Alex wears his all-black battle threads–a fine magical armor, sleeveless, with a hooded cloak flowing past his thighs and concealing his features, matching his armored, thin, fitted bottoms.
Standing, I wave a hand, transforming my clothes into an identical, golden version.
“Angie’s waiting on us. We’re heading to the wolf’s domain with intel of shifters being slaughtered.”