Chapter 8
Ezra
There she was. The fire burned bright in my bond, but lately it had been like an out-of-control wildfire that scorched whoever came too close.
I wanted to give her a way to rein it in, if not for herself then for the safety of those around her.
I meant what I said when I offered to teach her how to defend herself, but sometimes there was no replacement for going to town on a bag when you needed some anger management.
Her long red hair was tied up in its usual bun, with small strays curling around her neck and ears.
Sweat glistened on her skin, its own kind of glow, as she went to work exactly as I asked.
She let go and unleashed. Fucking beautiful.
No experience, and already her technique was near perfect.
There were a few tweaks I needed to make in her form before they became bad habits, but really, I was nitpicking.
Rani was critical in taking direction. She listened intently and picked things up quickly.
I’d make a warrior out of her yet. But first, we needed to channel that temper.
Her strikes slowed as she neared the end of her stamina.
Red flashed when she wound up for her next strike, and I cursed, lunging forward to stop her.
“Fuck, babe,” I whispered, getting my first good look at the damage.
The black of the bag hid the evidence for too long, but it was no excuse. I should have wrapped her damn hands. Her chest rose and fell in gasps as I inspected her knuckles. Blood ran in little rivulets between her fingers and down the back of her hand.
“I didn’t think you’d hit hard enough,” I apologized again, ready to kick my own ass. “I should have wrapped them.”
Half disgusted with myself and half impressed by her strength, I used the bottom of my shirt to dab at the wounds. These weren’t superficial. Not just red marks and raw scrapes, she actually broke through the first few layers and split the skin. A true fighter. Pride bloomed in my chest.
I was as gentle as I could be. The bond hummed at how close we were. It had been a few days since we maintained contact for this long, and I once again mentally beat the shit out of myself for enjoying it despite her pain. Did she feel it too, or was she too focused on the sting in her hands?
A proper cleaning was necessary to get a better look at the damage, but I already knew all I needed to.
Rani had a lot of anger to work through, so much that she herself might not even realize it.
When I thought about what she had to go through, what she was still going through, to entice that much rage…
She hissed when the rough fabric of my shirt rubbed her knuckle wrong and yanked her hand from my hold. I made a soft sound and reached again, but she held her hand close to her chest.
“I don’t need your pity,” she snarled, and I stilled.
Taking a good, long look, I saw too much emotion.
It was spilling out of her in uncontrolled waves.
With a little strum along our burgeoning bond, I revealed even more than her fury.
Shame . Guilt . They were trapped inside her with no way out.
Another brief glance at her hands, and I knew I couldn't let her return to the bag.
Not even with wraps. Not until they healed.
But maybe I could goad those emotions to the surface and set them free.
I shrugged. “I can’t control how I feel any better than you can.”
Oh, she didn’t like that. Her eyes narrowed, and that hum in my chest went crazy, something I was fast becoming addicted to feeling. My smirk only made it worse and shit, there was no controlling the truths that spilled from me then.
“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”
Her fury sparked, pulling at the bond like a kick to the ribs, and she launched herself at me. It was a perfect punch, just like I taught her, but it wasn’t near fast enough to land. I ducked and came back up with a delighted grin.
“Back to training then?”
Laughing probably wasn’t the best reaction, especially since she almost broke my nose twice in the last thirty seconds.
Getting hard was an even worse reaction, but I couldn’t control that one.
She was too perfect. We moved far from the bloodied bag, working our way through the side garden where I used whatever I could to keep the distance between us; chairs, bushes, a fucking table umbrella.
I wanted her to empty all that rage, not actually rearrange my face with it.
Being on the constant attack was finally starting to take its toll, and her hits were becoming more strategic and less animalistic.
How anyone could pity this magnificent creature was beyond me.
She didn’t need it. Hair half fallen from her bun, cheeks rosy with exertion, and that nose.
Could someone be sexy and adorable at the same time? Sexable? Whatever. It was her .
“I never noticed how much you scrunch your nose when you’re pissed. It's cute.”
“Shut up!”
“Make me,” I taunted, and let her get a little closer.
“The only reason I haven’t smacked you yet is because you’ve been nice lately.”
Ha! My poor deluded little spitfire.
“No, you haven’t hit me because you can’t catch me.”
I took that moment to hop forward and smack her ass before spinning away with a laugh. Her enraged shriek was like music to my ears; I knew she had more rage hiding in there. I wasn’t doing my job if I didn’t lure it out. The only downside to my plan was how long it took.
Exhausted now, she got sloppy. When another miss of my face nearly broke her hand on the side of the house, I knew it was time to bring this to an end.
“Ok, fun’s over. Time to get back to work.”
“Fun? Fun?” she roared and charged me. Like a damn linebacker.
She threw another punch to my head, and I dodged to the side, refusing to step back and let her gain more ground.
There was hardly enough room on the patio for this.
With a smirk, I stepped closer and grabbed her waist with both hands.
With her next strike, I helped her along with a twist and almost knocked her off balance.
“Power comes from your hips, remember?”
Her growl did funny things to my dick, and I sent a mental order for him to stand down .
Rani’s little hands clutched my shoulders as she brought her knee up to hit the very soldier I was trying to control, and I deflected by stepping to the side and catching her leg.
I pulled it higher, anchoring it over my hip, and pushed forward until she was trapped between me and the sliding glass door.
We almost lined up. If I lifted her higher or she stood on her tippy toes we could rub together in all the right ways. Instead, I kept her stuck where she was, close but not close enough.
“We haven’t moved on to kicks yet, babe,” I tsked. “You gotta walk before you can run.”
We stared at one another, chests rising rapidly as we fought to catch our breath.
Her a little more than me. I was in excellent shape.
I took advantage of having her so close and checked her over for anything I might have missed.
Those dark circles under her eyes weren’t lighter, only covered with makeup.
Her cheeks were a little less round, another product of her losing weight. Something behind her eyes was screaming for help. She might not realize it, but it was in there, fighting to get out. To be free. I had a feeling it was the siren part of her she’d locked away.
“Let me go,” Rani demanded. “I’m ready to go back inside.”
More like she wanted to hide. I saw too much. All those little broken pieces were on display with no wall to hide behind, and I was witness to them all.
“Inside, Ezra.”
I shook my head. “I can show you how to fight in there, but all the soft surfaces will distract me.”
She wiggled in my hold, and I held back a groan. Just because she wasn’t right over my dick didn’t mean I couldn’t feel her heat. I knew exactly what I was missing each time she pushed against me to try and break free.
“This is just an excuse for you to put your hands on my ass.”
I could have had my hands on her ass this whole time? Fucking missed opportunity.
“No, it’s me trying to help.”
“Well, I don’t need help!”
Lies. No amount of yelling or bared teeth could hide what she was so desperately trying to. I cocked my head and watched as her little ripped hands pushed on my arms. When that didn’t work, she started pinching me. Hard. I clenched my teeth against the pain her nails delivered.
“Asking for help doesn't make you weak. Ouch!”
Her nostrils flared, and a spark relit in her gaze. I didn’t know what endless pool she drew from, but she was building up to a meltdown. She was too exhausted to go another round, and I wasn’t sure I could get her through it safely. Time to nip it in the bud.
“There you go, getting cranky again.” I tapped her nose.
“I’m not cranky!”
I might have understated.
“Then it must be the workout that’s got you overheated,” I replied, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Time to cool off.”
I tightened my hold on her and spun. The pool was only a couple steps away, and I threw us both into the deep end with only a warning for her to take a breath.
The cool water closed over us and eased the heat from the afternoon and its strenuous activities.
Rani thrashed in my arms, and I finally let her go, before pushing off the bottom and breaking the surface with a laugh.
The bubbles were still settling from where we landed, but Rani hadn’t come up. I saw her at the bottom, legs and arms floundering only inches from the concrete floor. The first pulse of her power shook the foundation of the pool, and I knew something was very, very wrong. Could she not swim?
Panic and absolute terror radiated down our bond. I shouldn't have felt her emotions; it was too soon, but they were that strong. I dove down as another tremor sent massive waves above the surface. My vision of Rani grew clearer the closer I got, and my heart broke with what I saw.
Her face was twisted in a mask of fear, mouth open in a silent scream as her hands clawed for the surface.
She didn’t even notice she was on the bottom.
One strong kick and she’d be out. Her pain was enough to twist my gut, and I swam harder to reach her.
She fought me when I wrapped my arms around her waist, but the hits were weak from lack of oxygen.
We shot up in one quick push, and I lifted her a little more so she was the first to get her head above the water.
She sputtered and gasped as I brought us to the stairs. Every second she clung to me, my guilt grew. Rani wasn’t prone to hysteria; if anything, she was stubborn enough to ignore it. But I had a sick feeling I’d broken another piece of her with my joke.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered over and over into her wet hair. “I’m so sorry.”
She answered in shakes. Her skin was covered in goosebumps as I carried her to the grass, far from the water. I set her down and reached for a towel. A hand shot out and clutched at my arm, the nails digging in until I bled.
“You’re going to be all right,” I told her, ignoring the pain of her grip. “Breathe with me, baby.”
She didn’t speak. Didn’t yell. I checked in through our bond and was met with numbness. Over her shoulder, the pool still shook, its water choppy and violent, like a mini sea trapped in a concrete tomb.
Gods, what have I done?
I stretched as far as I could and reached the folded beach towels on a nearby bench. I wrapped her in one, pulled her into my lap, and rocked her to try and ease her trembling. I wasn’t sure if it was my scent or the warmth of my body that eventually calmed her, but her shaking ceased.
She still clutched at my soaked shirt, and I held her head to my chest. My fingers ran over her waterlogged hair, pulling the matted strands from her cheeks.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there like that, but it wasn’t until the summer sun had us almost completely dry that she pushed away from me and sat on her own.
I was reluctant to let her go, but I knew she needed to get her own bearings. Be on solid ground, so to speak.
“I’m so sorry,” I told her again. I sounded like a broken record, but aside from pleading with her to not hate me, there were no other words I could form. Some type of explanation maybe? “I didn’t think—I didn’t know you would—”
“I’m okay,” she replied, pushing away. She stood on shaky legs and clutched that towel around her in a death grip.
The pool beside us was glassy and still.
Her power wasn’t out of control anymore, but I saw the way she eyed it and then the door.
Her chin trembled, and I knew she was thinking about having to pass all that water to get back inside.
I was an idiot. If she let me, I planned to spend every waking minute making this up to her.
“You’re not okay,” I insisted. “You’re shaking. Please, let me help you.”
I reached for her, but she backed away. My heart crumbled, and the bond between us pulled taut. I’d never forget the monotony of her voice or the blankness of her face. It was like all the life in her had been snuffed out. Even the rage.
“You’ve done enough.”
She slowly made her way back inside while I fell apart on the back patio.
I’d never felt like such a failure. It was enough that I couldn’t properly protect my cousin and his bonded last year and I failed at my duty as guardian.
But to fail my own bond? I wasn’t worthy of her.
It was a fact I’d always known. This just proved it.
She deserved far better than a fuck up like me.