Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Ash woke alone, buried under the covers. She reached for Race, but his side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold.
A little disappointed, she turned to the glass wall. Wintry sunlight poured through the panels, stabbing her eyes. Groaning, she dragged the covers over her head.
She should get up, find him, and meet the other psionics—
A door opened, then a soft thud followed.
Ash peered out from under the covers. Race stood near the fireplace, dressed head-to-toe in brooding black, her luggage at his feet, firelight gilding his unfairly perfect profile. Of course, he’d look that good first thing in the morning.
As if sensing her stare, he turned. “You’re up. Good.”
Ash lifted to her elbows. “You went to the Himalayas?”
“Yeah. Got that out of the way. After last night, your body needed rest—”
She arched a brow. “Hmm. I wonder why that was?”
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he strolled closer. “Might as well get used to it, my mate.”
She huffed, though her body tightened at the memory. “In that case, I’d like to wake up with my man still in bed next to me.”
“You needed your things.” He stopped near her, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You getting up?”
She gave him a slow once-over. Big, gorgeous, his hair tied back in a short ponytail, and his direct crimson stare—heck, he could be a little intimidating if one didn’t know him. “You didn’t scare Ama Deni, did you?”
“Who?”
“The proprietor’s mother. Khetra House?”
He shook his head, then planted his hands on his hips. “It’s almost midday, Ash. I’d like to get some training done with you. Now get that delectable ass moving.”
She groaned, flopping back on the pillow. “I miss you already.”
“I’m right here.”
“No, I miss the other you—the patient one.”
“Ash.”
“Fine.” She tossed the covers aside and stretched. His eyes flared with hunger as they roamed her naked body.
Ash wandered over to her luggage, ignoring the answering heat in her blood. Perhaps now he’d rethink the whole idea of rushing off to start the day. She grabbed a change of clothes from her bag and headed for the bathroom.
A quick shower later, she dried off, changed into charcoal joggers and a fitted moss-green, long-sleeve t-shirt that had seen one wash too many. She finger-combed her damp hair and padded back to the bedroom on sock-covered feet.
Race stood near the window wall, hands in his pockets, staring out at the weak sunlight spilling over the parapet, now bare of snow.
Just seeing him, a smile started then faltered. While she teased him about not wanting to wake up alone, she knew why he didn’t sleep. The nightmares.
Her steps slowed, her heart hurting. When she thought of Tartarus and what had been done to him—the sheer injustice—her heart hurt for him.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her wrist, then glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over her face. “Better?”
“Amazingly so,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for my bags. Oh, give me a second.” She hurried over to the bedside nightstand, rummaged in her carry-on for her mobile and charger, and looked around. “Where?”
Race took it from her, crouched near the armchair to plug it in, then rose. “Breakfast first, then we get started.”
“Later. I can’t really eat. My nerves are at war. So, are we going outside?” She grabbed her trainers from her carry-on and shoved her feet into them.
A smile tugged at his mouth. “No, the basement.”
She straightened, her apprehension growing. “I’ll still be inside the castle, Race. I don’t want to accidentally damage anything again.”
He gently brushed his thumb along her cheek. “It’s safe, I promise. Come.”
Right then. She followed him into the lift. He hit the basement button, and the doors slid shut.
The new warm light deep within her chest, the one that was all him, appeared a little dull, and her stomach tightened. Something felt off. But when he caught her staring and lifted an eyebrow, the spark brightened again, and her worry faded.
“What?” he asked.
She folded her arms over her chest and smirked. “So, I’m mated to the mysterious dragon, hmm?”
He chuckled. “I’m only mysterious because I never joined my fellow Guardians in anything outside of work. Hell, until a few years ago, they were all reclusive bastards who gave no fucks about anything, right up until they mated.” He leaned against the metal wall. “With my history, I preferred—”
“I know. Nightclubs. Noise, the crowds.” She crossed to him and wrapped her arms around him. “But I’m here now.”
He rubbed her back and kissed her head. “You are all that matters.”
The lift stopped. Race ushered her into an unadorned, granite-walled corridor with bright lights. “That’s the gym,” he said, nodding to a door on their left. A faint thud and the echo of voices drifted from behind it. “And this—” he gestured to the opposite entrance, “—is the arena.”
He opened the door, and Ash stopped short.
The place was vast, carved into the rock beneath the castle, like a subterranean stadium.
Light spilled from the high ceiling, glancing off the granite walls and stone floor.
At the far end, rows of swords gleamed on their racks, catching the light like a promise of violence.
“The arena’s warded with arcane magic,” Race said, moving to the center. “It protects against our powers should they slip through. It makes training here safe. Your abilities are growing stronger. Without control—”
“I could hurt someone.” She rubbed her cold, tingling hands down her joggers. “I don’t want that.”
“It’s why you need to make your powers conform to your intent.” He gestured toward the vast space around them. “And learn to direct them, to aim at your target without touching another or hurting yourself.”
Her stomach twisted. She didn’t care so much about herself, but accidentally hurting someone else, she couldn’t bear that. “Then teach me.”
He circled her slowly. “Show me what you can do.”
Right. She focused on the tingles in her palms and jerked up her hands. A jagged bolt of lightning cracked through the air, wild and unfocused, striking the warded wall before dissipating harmlessly.
“Again,” he called out. “This time, feel it building first, then strike.”
Ash willed the tingles within forward, forcing herself to hold the rising current. Pressure mounted, and her skin stretched as if it would split open.
“Now hit that target.” He pointed to a spot on the far wall.
A burst of energy shot from her hands again. Lightning slammed into the wall with a boom of thunder. Fragments of rubble exploded and scattered across the floor. “Oh shit—”
“Better.” His voice carried quiet approval. “Walls can be fixed.”
Okay, maybe she could do this.
For the next two hours, he worked her through exercise after exercise—channeling, holding, directing. By the time he called for a break, her arms trembled, and sweat slicked her skin.
Race crossed to the small fridge near the sword racks and grabbed a bottle of water. Ash slumped against the wall, trying to quiet the buzz in her head.
“You’re stronger than you realize,” he said, handing her the bottle.
Her chest heaving, she unscrewed it with a trembling hand and gulped down the icy liquid.
“Okay?”
She nodded, recapping the bottle. “Yeah.”
“Good. Now…” He stepped back, pulling off his t-shirt and tossing it aside. “Control and direct it at me.”
“What? I’m not going to do that,” she snapped, her fingers crushing the plastic. “Last night was different. My emotions weren’t ones of anger when my power broke free—when you had me under you.”
“I know.” A hint of a smile ghosted across his face.
She scowled.
“Ash, I’m a Guardian. I’ve faced demons you can’t even imagine. I know what dangerous looks like.” His voice dropped, steady, coaxing. “Come, heart-fire. Give me your worst.”
She set the crumpled, heat-warped bottle down, the terror that she could hurt him bleeding into her. Tingles sparked in her fingers, and she flexed them.
“Don’t hold back,” he said, circling her. “If I get caught in your strike, so be it. I need to learn how to shield from your abilities, as well.”
“That guard,” she rasped, remembering the shifter collapsing on the ground by the portal in Lemuria. “I struck him down. He was dying. I froze and couldn’t pull back my power—”
“Ash.”
Just her name, spoken in that quiet tone, and she exhaled.
Her gaze fixed on him, she tried to focus as the currents skipped along her skin. The prickles gathered momentum, crackling through her fingers, looking for a way out, but she held back, couldn’t bring herself to hurt him.
A snarl erupted, and a dark blur came at her, a sword in hand.
“No—” she shrieked, flinging out her hands, the power surge sending him skidding across the vast arena. He hit the opposite wall, her lightning wrapping around him.
“Race!” she yelled, sprinting across the space, terror consuming her.
“Don’t,” he panted and raised a hand, stopping her. “Again.”
“No, dammit!” Tears burned her eyes. “I’m not doing this—”
“Ash, look at me.”
Her mouth tight, she lifted her gaze and froze. Black scales glimmered like onyx armor over his skin, and his enormous claws had extended. His pupils had reduced to molten slits. “I can block you out,” he said, his voice roughened with power. “My scales are fire-resistant. Again.”
He didn’t give her time to think, much less summon her power. He came at her, a blur in black, his growl booming like an enraged beast—
“Eeep!” She stumbled back, lifting her hands once more, and lightning erupted, wrapping around his dark figure. The force made him stagger a step.
“Again.”
She swallowed hard.
“Get with it, Ash!” his voice rumbled as if coming from a distance. He sprinted around the arena like the wind while she just stood there. “Never falter. If you do, it means death.”