CHAPTER TWENTY #2
Heat flares in my chest as I regain my balance. Anger, frustration, hate— It’s all the same.
I grasp my dagger tight in my palm and lunge, its blade flashing as I slash for his arm. He shifts just enough that the blade sings through empty air, skimming past his shoulder as his fist drives into my ribs with punishing precision.
Pain explodes beneath my skin, the impact knocking the breath straight out of my lungs. I stumble back a step, chest burning, vision flickering for half a second as I drag in a sharp, ragged breath.
“Going for blood today, Elysia darling?” He muses, voice deep and mocking.
I offer a sweet smile, holding my ribs. “With you? Always. It looks rather pretty on my blade.”
“Well, I’d hate to look anything less than pretty for you.” The corner of his mouth twitches up, then he crooks a finger at me, “Come on, is that all you’ve got?”
A frustrated groan works up my throat, then I am pushing through the burning pain with everything in me as I pivot hard on my heel, aiming higher this time. The impact lands with a dull crack that finally earns me a low grunt, and it settles something fierce and triumphant in my gut.
I don’t stop. I don’t falter. I keep pushing.
Feinting right, I drop my shoulder like I’m going for his ribs again and then cut left, ducking beneath his arm.
I drive in close, shoulder brushing his waist as my knee comes up fast toward his thigh, targeting the femoral nerve the way Brynn taught me.
His leg jerks, weight shifting sharply as a hiss slips between his teeth.
“You’re getting bold,” He mutters, breath just slightly heavier now.
I ignore him and circle tight, footwork stuttering and changing rhythm, staying just inside that dangerous middle distance where his strength can’t fully extend, and my speed still matters.
I dart in again, but he must have caught the movement… or the thought, because he’s moving before my mind can catch up to it, arm striking out and catching my wrist in half a heartbeat.
He twists, and white-hot pain blooms across my shoulder as my body rotates, then I’m pulled backwards, arm trapped between my shoulder blades and the solid lines of his abdomen.
There’s a tug at my wrist as he prys my dagger from my grip, then his forearm comes around to lock across my ribs, my dagger’s point pressed into the underside of my chin.
“That was better,” he says quietly, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. “But you’re wasting your height.”
He releases my arm with sudden force, pushing me forward enough to make me stumble. I roll my shoulder, easing the pain just slightly and spin to face him. He begins to circle me, my dagger twirling between his fingers.
“You want to go for the kidneys,” he says lazily.
My eyes narrow, “Why?”
Rune-light glints off my dagger as he continues to twirl it, still circling me, “You’re right there. You’re small and quick, and the blow is brutal. It would make even me nauseous enough to slow down.”
“No. Why teach me how to take down a human?” I ask, eyes narrowed. “It’s not like I’ll be facing others on the field.”
He clicks his tongue, like he’s disappointed in my question. “Those border creatures are not your only enemy; humans are too. Especially humans.”
The words settle like lead in my stomach, heavy and suffocating.
It’s no secret that training to become a warrior mage is lethal by design. You don’t simply learn to survive; you prove you’re worth the respect… and the paycheck. If that means cutting away the weakest links, so be it.
The Council don’t tolerate weak warriors, and no warrior wants a liability on their squad.
At Celestrian Academy, you’re permitted to kill anyone you judge unfit—too slow, too afraid, too careless.
A threat… or an inconvenience. Sometimes simply because you don’t like them.
No tribunal. No questions. Just senseless death.
“Always keep your guard up,” he says evenly. “And always go for the most debilitating blow.”
Then he’s moving.
He lunges for me in a single breath, my dagger flashing in the rune-light as he swings it towards my shoulder.
I move before I can second-guess it and dart low, narrowly avoiding his arm.
My footwork shifts just long enough to sell the wrong angle before I’m moving around him, my fist driving hard into his lower back, right under his ribs.
He exhales sharply, breath hitching despite himself.
I feel it… through the bond, a wave of nausea and masked pain flickers over me, even through our shields.
“Good,” he grunts, voice rougher now. “Now do it again.”
He spins, his fist whistling through the air toward my ribs. I slip it by a breath, ducking past the strike as my leg sweeps out low and hard, connecting with the backs of his knees. The impact jolts up my leg, rattling my teeth.
His legs buckle, and he drops like a felled tree, crashing to his knees. My hand snaps out to catch his wrist, twisting once until a sharp hiss tears from his throat and my dagger clatters to the floor.
Half a heartbeat later, I’m behind him and holding the blade to his throat, my fingers knotted in his hair as I wrench his head aside and bare his neck.
“Fuck yes. Kick his ass, Sparks!” Cole shouts from the sidelines, the proudest grin I’ve ever seen plastered on his face.
Kaden shoots Cole a look, and a groan works up his throat as I press my dagger into his neck, enough to draw a single bead of blood. The runes flare brilliantly, and I can’t help the triumphant grin that tugs at my lips as I lean into the crook of his neck, lips brushing the tip of his ear.
“Yield,” I whisper, hand tightening in his ridiculously soft hair.
A dark chuckle works up his throat, then sinful fingers brush across my mind, “Only you could get me on my knees, Elysia darling.”
I ignore him, annoyance burning bright beneath my ribs. I press the blade harder against his throat, enough to earn a curse to slip from his lips.
“Do. You. Yield.” I punctuate each word with venom.
“Not a chance,” He croons, “You’ll have to try harder than that.”
His hand shoots out and snatches my wrist, twisting sharply until pain shoots up my arm and my grip loosens around my dagger.
Then the world tilts.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
In one fluid motion, he pulls me over his shoulder with volatile momentum, and my back hits the ground hard enough to rattle my teeth.
Air is forced from my lungs in a painful rush, and a breath later, he’s pinning me to the ground, the weight of his body settling between my thighs. His knees press into the floor, caging me in, chest hovering just above mine, close enough that each breath he exhales ghosts warm across my cheek.
My heart stutters, his warmth seeping through the thin layer of fabric between us. Arousal slides into my stomach like something toxic and unbidden as the scent of cedar wood and cinnamon floods my senses until it’s dizzying.
He brings my dagger to rest cold and gleaming at the base of my throat, his mismatched eyes burning down into mine, equal parts challenge and triumph.
Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole.
“A single edge means nothing if you lose focus; that’s how wars are lost, remember that.”
My pulse hammers, irritation tangling with something molten and dangerous. His hand moves deliberately slow, sheathing the dagger back at my thigh. The move is unnervingly hot.
His fingers drag against bare skin, the touch feather-light but firm enough to leave a ghost of pressure. When his hand trails just a breath higher, his fingertips brush the inside of my thigh, and the contact alone sends a shudder through me.
His eyes flick up, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moves. The air around us becomes heavy and charged before he finally pushes up, releasing me and stepping back with infuriating calm.
Kaden smirks, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Round two?”
I rise to my feet and meet his gaze; chin lifted in challenge. “Only if you’re ready to get burned.”
His grin widens, canines glinting under the rune lights. “If you’re the one burning me, I’ll always be ready.” He winks, the gesture equal parts mockery and temptation.
I move before he can breathe another word, closing the distance in a heartbeat. My fist drives into his stomach, knuckles colliding with the solid wall of his abs. He grunts but recovers fast, ducking low and swinging for my ribs. I twist out of reach, feeling the wind of his strike graze my side.
Before he can reset, I pivot and kick up, the motion sharp and faster than the eye can catch. My heel catches the underside of his jaw with a satisfying crack. His head snaps back, a rough sound escaping his throat as he stumbles a step.
A dark chuckle escapes his throat as his hand grips his jaw. “Feisty little thing. Are you trying to kill me, Elysia darling?”
“Well, you did try to take my life. It’s only fair.” I seethe, footwork skittering just enough to sell the wrong angle, then my fist jabs into his lower back, hitting his kidneys. He bows forward slightly, a harsh exhale escaping his throat.
“Good. You’re learning.” He turns to face me, holding his lower back. “Maybe next time it won’t be so easy to take your breath away from you.”
Anger surges through me at the memory and magic thrums beneath my skin, eager and alive as flamebirds materialise and wheel behind me, wings trailing sparks as they dive toward him.
His shadows lash out, closing around each fiery shape, smothering them one by one. I pivot on my heel and drive my foot into his chest, the wind whooshes from him as his back hits the mat.
I press my boot into his sternum, shoulder low, and snatch my dagger free from its sheath, the runes along the hilt already flaring. The steel is cool and familiar in my hand as I bring the blade to his throat, the point whispering against his skin and drawing a single bead of crimson.
His lips twitch up in a faint smirk as familiar fingers brush across my mind, his deep velvet voice filling it a second later. “You’re truly a vision.”
The words stun me and send my heart skittering in a single breath, but before I have the chance to comprehend it truly, I’m yanked off the ground by my neck. Cold, black tendrils coil around my throat, tightening with viper-like precision, cutting off my air in an instant.
Of for fuck sakes.
I’m slammed into the ground beside him a second later, the air forced from my lungs in a painful rush. He’s on me in an instant, forcing the dagger still in my hand against my own throat. His body pinning my hips to the ground, heavy and unyielding as arrogance swims behind his mismatched eyes.
“What did I tell you about letting your guard down?” he hisses.
His weight presses in as he nudges the edge of my dagger deeper into my throat. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make the point impossible to ignore.
“Yield,” he demands.
My jaw tightens. Every instinct in me rebels, but my lungs burn, and my shield begins to fracture, “Fine,” I spit. “I yield.”
Satisfaction flickers briefly across his face before it freezes over, the moment already done with. He releases me and rises in one smooth motion, stepping back as if I’m nothing more than a completed exercise.
I lie there for half a heartbeat longer, staring at the ceiling, dragging air into my lungs until the world stops tilting.
Then I push myself up and stand, sheathing my dagger back at my thigh.
He’s already crossing the hall when I look back up, rolling his shoulder once before grabbing a waterskin from the bench beside Thane and Sirena.
Thane murmurs something low to him, and Sirena smiles wolfishly, muttering what I can only assume are teasing words.
I turn the other way and head towards Cole, who’s standing with his hands tucked lazily into his pockets, that signature crooked grin on his lips.
Cole lets out a low whistle as I stroll over. “You know, for two people who claim to hate each other, that reeked of sexual tension.”
I pin him with a glare sharp enough to draw blood.
He only grins, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying…” He glances around the room, “Pretty sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
My gaze sweeps the space. In the corner, Thane and Sirena sport matching smiles tugging at their mouths, too knowing for my liking. Ronan stands beside them, downing a canteen of water, his eyes full of concern… and something that looks a lot like question.
Cole slings his arm over me, “Anyway, I believe you still owe me that ass-kicking.” He quips, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me into him.
I laugh softly, “How could I possibly forget? Give me a minute to recover, and I promise to wipe the floor with you.”
He chuckles, boyish and familiar. “Deal.”
He hands me a waterskin and waits until I finish the last drop before he speaks again. “So… you and Kaden—”
“There is no ‘me and Kaden’, other than the damn bond.” I interject, my eyes pinning him as if to say ‘drop it’… but it’s Cole, so of course he doesn’t.
He shrugs, “I think you’re incredibly in denial. I thought I could sense something between you two last night, and watching you now? Confirmed.” His grin goes wicked. “You want to fuck him.”
I gasp and shove him by the forearm; he stumbles back a step and laughs, deep and satisfied.
My voice comes out higher than intended “Gods, could you have said that any louder?!”
I pause, catching Kaden’s eyes briefly, and a flush instantly creeps across my skin.
I hate how much his eyes affect me.
I force my voice to steady, pinning Cole with my eyes once again. “I don’t want to fuck him.”
“Mhm, keep telling yourself that.” He says, smirking. “But seriously, you need to get laid. You’re wound tighter than a drawn bow.” He flashes a Cheshire grin, and I flip him off.
“You know what would loosen me up? Kicking your ass.”
He gives my arm a playful shove and runs backwards toward the mat, a taunting look in his eyes.
“Finally. Ready when you are, Sparks.”