Chapter 19 #2
“He needs practice,” I tell her, keeping my voice low.
“What if I hurt him?”
“Don’t worry, you won’t,” I repeat the exact same thing I said to the kid five minutes ago. Only this time, I’m relying on Aurelia’s bleeding heart rather than her skill level to keep her from hurting Gunnar.
Reluctantly, Aurelia walks over to Gunnar and faces off against him. I watch her let him land a couple of light blows—probably just to make sure he knows what he’s doing—then make a half-hearted attempt to hit him back.
Gunnar hits Aurelia a few more times, until finally she gets tired of being batted around, and her stance shifts.
Her eyes narrow, and suddenly her practice sword becomes a blur.
Gunnar’s expression morphs from concentration to surprise as he stumbles backward, barely managing to parry her lightning-quick advances.
She beats him three times in quick succession, but he’s good-natured about it.
My face stretches into a smile. Perfect. I’m not trying to crawl out of my skin anymore, and everyone is happy—mostly.
As I’m watching Aurelia beat Gunnar for a fourth time, I feel someone approach from behind. I glance back to find Runa standing there, her eyes flicking between me and the sparring match. The smile slides off my face.
“Morning. Want to go a round?” she asks, gesturing to an empty patch of dirt nearby.
“No,” I say, turning back to watch Aurelia.
“I really wish you’d just talk to me.”
My eye twitches. I don’t want to fucking talk to her. What would I even say?
Yes, I defended her years ago, but I’m also the reason she needed defending in the first place, which isn’t something I like to think about.
I don’t regret stepping in—even though it led to Dyaspora—but that’s the extent of my feelings about the whole ordeal, so talking about it now feels pointless.
More importantly, if this mating bond with Aurelia were real, speaking privately with Runa would be a direct insult to my mate.
Thinking along those lines, I call Aurelia over to us. I have to do it out loud, but decide that’s the lesser problem than speaking to Runa alone.
Aurelia flashes a grin at Gunnar, then jogs over to me and Runa, her eyes flicking back and forth between us.
She stops next to me, and my hand finds her waist before I can think, drawing her against my side.
My thumb traces the fading mark on her throat, and her pulse jumps and she leans into my grip.
Aurelia tilts her head in Runa’s direction. “Hello. We met the other night, right?”
“Right.” Her jaw tightens as she adds, “You’re good with a blade. Better than most here.”
“Thanks,” Aurelia says airily.
There isn’t a hint of possessiveness or irritation in either her tone or her expression. She didn’t pull away when I reached for her, but aside from that she’s not giving any indication that she cares about Runa at all. I don’t know why that pisses me off, but it does.
“Are you finished?” I ask pointedly, giving a quick glance over my shoulder to where Gunnar is sitting on the ground. He’s obviously had enough of being knocked around by a tiny Fae woman, but seems in a better mood than he was when they started.
“I guess,” Aurelia scrunches up her face in a scowl. “I could probably go for another hour, but if you want to head back to the camp…”
“I was just looking for a partner,” Runa says imperiously. “If you’re not tired, I’d go a few rounds with you.”
My stomach drops and I stiffen against Aurelia’s side. Fuck, I hadn’t expected that. My mind races, trying to figure out what to do.
If I answer for Aurelia, it’ll look like I think Runa is stronger—like I’m protecting my mate from someone I believe could hurt her. But I’m not even sure what Runa’s trying to do here. Is this a threat? A challenge? Is it possible she really just needs a sparring partner now that I’ve said no?
I hold my breath, hoping Aurelia will decline, but of course she doesn’t. Her eyes light up at the challenge, completely unconcerned for her own safety, and before I can intervene, she’s already nodding her agreement.
I run both hands through my hair as Aurelia and Runa walk to an empty space on the edge of the field.
Runa is a head taller than Aurelia and wearing leather practice armor, which leaves only her head, neck, and hands exposed.
Aurelia looks absurdly outmatched in her short purple skirt and messy pigtail braids.
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. I dig my fingernails into my palms, leaving crescent moons in the flesh, while forcing my face to remain still even as a cold sweat breaks out along my spine.
“What’s going on?” Kai’s voice asks in my head. I glance up and find him jogging over to me, his brow furrowed. He stops beside me, and his eyes dart back and forth between me and the two women.
“They’re sparring,” I say flatly, clenching my jaw to keep my voice steady.
Kai’s expression shifts to concern. “Is that a good idea?”
“A good idea for whom?” I growl defensively.
Kai puts both hands up as if in surrender. “Sorry.”
“Aurelia can handle herself,” I say, even though my own stomach is in knots. The irony isn’t lost on me—defending Aurelia’s right to fight when every instinct in my body is screaming to pull her away from danger.
My heart pounds against my ribs as they turn to face each other, practice swords raised. Aurelia rolls her shoulders back, her stance relaxed but ready. Runa’s eyes never leave her, calculating, searching for weakness.
The match begins, and I’m instantly on edge.
Runa tests Aurelia with a lazy swing, which Aurelia parries with a flick of her wrist. Their blades tap together twice more, each woman measuring the other’s reach. Then Runa’s mouth tightens, and her next strike whistles through the air. Aurelia barely blocks it, the impact vibrating up her arm.
Unfortunately, Runa is every bit as skilled as I remember her being. She takes advantage of Aurelia staggering backwards from the last blow and drives her shoulder hard into Aurelia’s, nearly knocking her off her feet.
My hands shake at my sides with the effort of standing still. At what point do I stop it? First blood? If Aurelia falls?
It’s too late for that, because a moment later Runa hits Aurelia again, and she does fall.
Kai swears under his breath. “Should you stop them?”
“Not yet,” I hear myself say, even though my brain is screaming at me that yes, I should fucking stop this right goddamn now.
Runa towers over Aurelia, but Aurelia is quicker. A moment later she’s back on her feet, darting in and out of range like a hummingbird. She dodges several of Runa’s strikes, then feints left, but spins right. Her practice sword swipes across Runa’s cheek, drawing a thin red line.
Runa’s eyes widen with shock. A heartbeat later, they’re trading blows that ring across the field, filthy snow kicking up from the ground as they lunge and pivot. Sweat darkens Runa’s collar; several large red welts appear on Aurelia’s bare thighs and forearms, but neither one of them relents.
If her wings come out, I’ll stop it. So far, they haven’t. Mine might though—I can feel them straining against my skin, the pressure building between my shoulder blades as I watch Aurelia take another hit, her head jerking back with the impact.
I think I might die watching this.
Aurelia’s sword catches Runa’s upper arm, tearing a hole right through her leathers and leaving a red welt behind. I raise an eyebrow. Part of me wonders if she used magic to do that, but I don’t give a fuck if she did.
No one else seems to notice. In fact, someone cheers, and I suddenly realize we’ve drawn a crowd.
At least a dozen wolves have gathered in a semicircle, and more are jogging over to see what all the commotion is.
I spot Gunnar yelling enthusiastic encouragement, then Viktor watching, arms crossed, his narrow eyes darting between the fight and where Kai and I stand.
Runa’s sword slices through the air, cutting a blood-red line across Aurelia’s collarbone. A growl tears from my throat before I can stop it, and I take a step forward.
Kai’s hand clamps around my forearm, his fingers digging in as he holds me in place. “She’s doing fine, just like you said. If you intervene now, it makes her look weak.”
“I thought you said this shouldn’t happen,” I reply, unable to tear my eyes from the fight.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be a fair fight.” His eyes widen slightly as Aurelia executes a perfect parry. “You trained her?”
I nod, my chest tight with a mixture of pride and terror. I’m both glad I trained her and furious with myself for doing it at all, because if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be in this position.
The fight drags on. I watch as both Runa and Aurelia slow, their movements becoming heavier, less precise.
Somehow, Runa has lost an entire sleeve of her armor, and blood trickles from cuts on her arm and the side of her face.
Aurelia looks worse, except for the fact that she’s still smiling while Runa’s face is contorted with rage.
My chest constricts so tightly that I can barely breathe. I dig my nails deeper into my palms; the pain barely registering against the roaring in my head. I can’t take another second of this—I’m going to fucking lose it.
Finally, Aurelia’s blade flashes toward Runa’s throat, before at the last second she reverses her grip, smashing the heavy wooden pommel of her sword into Runa’s throat. Runa chokes and falls backward, as the breath is knocked out of her.
I stop breathing too. My heart hammers against my ribs as I watch Aurelia raise her sword again and bring it down in an arc.
Then, as she scrambles up again, Runa’s body contorts—bones cracking, skin rippling, her human form dissolving into fur and muscle until a medium-sized gray wolf with a white star on its forehead stands where she stood a heartbeat ago. Her discarded sword clatters to the ground at her paws.
Aurelia freezes, her sword suspended in mid-air, the killing blow aborted. I watch her muscles relax, the tension flowing out of her stance as she lowers her weapon. My heart is still hammering against my ribs as she throws her sword down into the dirty snow beside Runa’s.
“Why did she stop?” Kai practically shouts, leaning forward as if he’s about to sprint onto the field himself. “She had her!”
“It’s a fucking practice fight,” I bark. “Were you expecting someone to die?”
“Oh,” Kai says, his good eye blinking rapidly. “Right, sorry. Forgot for a second. But seriously, why did she stop?”
“She won’t hurt an animal,” I answer, already running toward Aurelia.
When I reach her, Aurelia is swaying slightly on her feet. I reach out instinctively to pick her up, but she shoves my hands away. “I can walk,” she says, her voice low but steady.
I clamp my jaws together, grinding hard enough to crack my teeth.
She’s right, it would be better if she left the field on her own feet, but fuck, I’m barely holding it together.
My back burns where my wings press against my skin, desperate to burst free.
I don’t even understand why I’m reacting this way. She won, didn’t she?
For once, we don’t need to pretend to be speaking to each other in our minds because we’re in total agreement. Aurelia turns and starts walking back toward camp, and I follow behind her, thinking vaguely that I’ll block her from view if she falls.
“You did so good,” I mutter as we reach the edge of the field and round a line of trees separating the practice field from the field where the camp is. “So fucking good. We’re almost there.”
As soon as we round the corner and the trees and the slope of the hill block the practice field from view, I reach out and scoop her into my arms. She doesn’t fight me. I carry her straight back to our tent, still muttering unintelligible praise into her hair.