Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
ANUBIS
Iliana breathed raggedly, and exertion reddened her face. Her body trembled. Two hours of failed attempts against his unbreakable grip. His composed appearance while pinning her, with no sign of exertion, had only increased her annoyance.
What Iliana didn’t know was that his self-control was an illusion. He was more affected than he let on. This was supposed to be training. That’s what he told himself. Every time she moved under him—every frustrated sound she made—it was torture. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.
“Again,” he commanded huskily.
Iliana growled, triggering something inside him. He shoved it down. This was her fight, not his. She pushed up between their bodies. Trying to move him. To unbalance him. It might’ve worked if he were mortal, but he wasn’t.
With effortless ease, Anubis pressed her back down with a smooth adjustment of his body.
Iliana cursed. Twisted her hips in another attempt to throw him off.
Nothing.
She turned her head away from him. “Get off! This is so fucking pointless!”
Anubis immediately released her, rising in one fluid motion. She was nearing her breaking point. Not from lack of effort, but from the impossibility of overcoming a god’s strength.
He knew that look. He’d worn it himself, watching Anput walk away. Iliana hated feeling helpless. It wasn’t simply about physical strength. It was about feeling inadequate. The bitter taste of not measuring up.
Anubis offered her a hand up, but she slapped it away. He didn’t take it personally. Instead, he watched her force herself upright, bracing her hands unsteadily on her knees. She was clearly fighting for control over her emotions, taking several shaky breaths before she managed to hold his gaze.
He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. She impressed him. Not with her techniques, but with her steadfastness. Many of the warriors he’d trained in the past would’ve given up long before now.
Not Iliana.
If she could push past the limitations of her mortal body, learn to outmaneuver rather than overpower, she could protect herself. Maybe not against gods, but no human would ever catch her off guard.
He held out a water bottle. She took it and drained it quickly.
“You think this is funny?” Iliana snapped.
He chuckled softly as she gave his arm a weak punch. She laughed at her failed retaliation.
That glare. It was meant to intimidate, but it had the opposite effect. Who knew he found venomous looks amusing? And arousing.
“Fine. It is funny,” she admitted, exhaling. “Why am I so horrible at this?”
He moved forward, tipping her chin up with his fingers. “You are learning fast.” He wouldn’t lie to her, but he wouldn’t let her give up, either. Still, she needed a change in strategy. “How about we work with weapons?”
Her eyes widened. “Weapons?”
He nodded. “If you are worried about strength, weapons can compensate and help to even the odds.”
“What good would that do if a god attacked?”
Anubis trailed his fingers down her cheek. “Some weapons can wound gods. Even kill them.”
He observed her. He’d seen what such weapons could do. What they cost. Gods weren’t truly immortal, only harder to destroy.
She paled. “What?”
“Celestial bronze. Stygian iron. Weapons blessed with primordial powers. They exist, though most are guarded. We do not currently have access to them, but if we did, I want you to know how to use them. Especially since it seems like some of the Greek gods are plotting.”
The practical words felt wrong. Not enough. Not when trusting her with the means to destroy him felt less dangerous than the alternative.
She gripped his forearm, stopping him from turning toward the weapons rack. Uncertainty shone in her eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The sheer earnestness hit him harder than any blow. She didn’t fear him or desire to fight him. She cared. Anubis exhaled sharply. He hadn’t prepared for that.
“We are using practice weapons, Neferet. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
He pulled away, letting his words sink in as he crossed the room. His eyes skimmed over the weapons, passing over heavier swords before selecting a wooden dagger. It was light, and the edges were dulled, but it was close enough to the real thing.
When he turned, Iliana was staring at him. He flipped the dagger and held it out.
She took it, their hands touching briefly before she turned it over to inspect it. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Did you make this?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“I almost don’t want to practice with it. It should be displayed somewhere. The detail is incredible.”
Anubis rolled his shoulders, feeling too seen. He often searched for the best materials, finding quiet places to work with his hands as he enjoyed the periods of calm.
“It would be a waste. I made it to be used.”
She smiled shyly at him. “If you’re sure... I guess.”
He smirked. “I can always make another for you.”
“I’d like that.”
A possible future played through his mind. He could see them together, sitting by a fire outside his cabin in Alaska, as she watched him carve something just for her. It was an illusion. A temptation he reluctantly pushed away.
Focus.
“Now, hold out the weapon.”
She did, offering it to him like a gift.
Anubis shook his head and repositioned her arm. He bent her elbow slightly and lowered her hand. “You want to keep your movements close to your body, so you are not telegraphing your intent. If it comes to a fight where you need to use a dagger, you need every advantage you can get.”
He brushed his fingers over her right shoulder, trailing them across her collarbones. “Never lift the blade above your shoulders.”
“Okay,” she said shakily.
His hand skimmed down to her waist, his palm slowing a moment before ghosting over her hip.
He dragged his fingers slowly across to the other side, feeling her muscles tense, then soften under his touch.
She shivered. He loved seeing how responsive she was.
With so little provocation, her reaction was honest. Her body didn’t lie to him.
“Never drop the dagger below your hips and keep it within your shoulders. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said, breathless.
Anubis moved behind her, his steps silent on the mat. He placed his hands on her hips, tugging her back toward him, angling and fine-tuning her stance. “Move your right leg back and turn your body slightly.”
“This feels like I’m putting distance between myself and whoever I’m fighting.” Her pulse throbbed beneath his palm where it rested against her hip bone.
“It makes you a smaller target and harder to disarm,” he explained, correcting her posture.
His hands traveled up her spine, his callused fingers finding each vertebra, coaxing her body into proper alignment.
He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material of her shirt, and he could hear her breathing change when he touched her.
She grumbled but remained pliant under his touch. “Makes sense, I guess.”
His hands traveled up her frame with light, guiding pressure. A touch on her shoulder blade. Again on the base of her neck. Each point of contact deliberate, teaching her body the proper fighting stance even as he learned every inch of her.
His lips tilted in satisfaction. Better. Much better.
“Now bend your knees.”
When she did, Anubis leaned in, her cinnamon scent mixing with her sweat. His breath fanned against the shell of her ear, and she shivered again. “Now raise your other arm as a guard.”
Her hand steadied around the dagger as she did as he instructed. The weapon stopped trembling, and he hummed. Then he brushed his lips against her neck.
Iliana moaned. The low, throaty sound sent fire racing through his veins. Her scent heightened with arousal.
Fuck.
He yanked himself back, his pulse pounding.
Distance. He needed distance before he did something they weren’t ready for.
He wanted to press his lips to her skin and taste her.
To see how far she would let him go. She had no idea what she was doing to him.
His self-control had its limitations, and she was testing every single one.
He masked his turmoil with a wicked grin and a sharp swat to her backside before stepping away.
She whirled around, dagger raised, eyes flashing with indignation, her arousal battling with outrage.
Perfection.
He forced down his grin. “Now do as I instructed. Knees bent, turn your body, and keep that weapon ready.”
Iliana grumbled to herself as she moved into position.
Anubis pretended not to hear as he turned away, adjusting himself with a hissed curse.
This was going to be pure torture.