Chapter 13
Non
“Do you always start your mornings by ogling at topless men fighting?”
Alaw and Addae had sprinted for the double doors to the west of the castle after we left breakfast. The exit had led us to a large balcony that overlooked a fighting ring.
That wasn’t on my bingo card of things I’d see when I came to live in a castle inhabited by Witches who don’t really like to call themselves Witches anymore. Maybe some animal bones and a broom or two, but not a sand pit that encouraged violence.
Alaw’s eyes were fixated on the two men below, one of whom had ditched their shirt and began circling the other.
“It’s a tradition. We come here every year. With the Anoethau starting at the end of summer, the weather is always boiling and the habits are horrid to train in. At least one a day strips off.” Her cheeks flushed, not necessarily from the heat.
I had to admit the high collar of the habit I wore was causing my neck to sweat profusely. To my surprise, Jazz had made a beeline for the bistro set at the far side of the balcony where the view beneath us was restricted.
I called over to them. “I thought this would be right up your street.”
Jazz grimaced. “Usually, yes, but one of the two down there fighting is—” They shook their head.
I quirked a brow. “Someone else you left high and dry when they asked you for a date?”
“No,” they ground out. “It just feels kind of creepy watching him from up here.”
There was a seriousness to Jazz’s tone that I’d not heard since we first met, which I took as a sign to not push the subject further. A clash of steel echoed from below, and I made my way to the ledge to see what all the fuss was about.
A male with umber skin waved his arms through the air as two stiletto knives as long as my forearm slashed at his opponent.
With a clang, one was thrown from his grip and landed in the sand a few metres away.
His opponent saw his opening and charged at him, sword raised, but the umber skinned fighter raised an open hand to the discarded knife, and it flew through the air back to his palm.
“How are they doing that?” I asked, nodding to the weapons that flew around at their command.
I almost jumped at Jazz’s sudden and silent appearance on my right. “Remember in Rhun’s workroom I mentioned specific elements act as an amplifier for our power?” I nodded. “That’s how stone reacts to the Witches of Llyr. They can command it at will.”
I scrunched my nose. “I’m pretty certain those weapons aren’t made of stone.”
Jazz huffed out a half-hearted laugh. “No, but they’re imbued with stone.
Witches learnt the hard way that defending themselves with blades made of stone isn’t very efficient.
They came up with a ritual to infuse the steel when it’s still in liquid form with shavings of slate.
That way, they can still command the weapon and disembowel their enemies with ease.
” With that, the shirtless man swept his arm up in an arc, and the levitating knife mimicked the movement, missing his opponent’s abdomen by mere inches.
The topless fighter was on the slimmer side and covered in lean muscle. He attacked with a ruthless efficiency, considering this looked like a training session. Not once did he relent in landing blow after blow on his opponent.
The other male, who had his back to us, still wore a black cotton shirt that was soaked in sweat. It was almost transparent as it clung to his bulky frame.
I hadn’t even noticed my mouth hanging open until Alaw pushed it shut. “I think you’re dribbling on the railing.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
Addae leaned his arms on the railing, resting his chin in his hands. “Just be glad you aren’t taking part in this year’s Anoethau, Non.”
“Why?” Admittedly, I was thrilled when Granny said I wouldn’t have to take part, but I was also very suspicious, considering it could be the last thing I ever do.
A sure-fire way to make her disappointing granddaughter magically disappear.
Why wasn’t she jumping at the chance to have me accidentally killed?
Alaw nodded towards the fight. “Because that’s who you’d be up against.”
When I turned back to the fight, a vortex of water swirled mid-air above the training ring, the shirtless fighter trapped inside. His hands clawed at his throat as he gasped for air.
My hands twitched at my sides with the want to intervene; not that I would have been able to do anything. Thus far, my power had only emerged while I was being attacked, and I felt no twinge of pressure in my chest to suggest it was coming to the fighter’s aid.
The taller, shirted male who commanded the water flicked his wrist downwards, and his opponent landed with a thud in a puddle of water. My eyes fixated on his back as I waited with bated breath for him to finish his opponent off.
Instead, the two men burst out laughing.
The one who wore the shirt pulled the other into a tight embrace and thumped his back before making his way to the rack of weapons at the edge of the ring.
He raised his palm, and the broadsword he’d been using to fight sailed through the air and landed on the rack.
“Who is he?” My question came out quieter than intended.
Alaw seemed to hold her breath before she responded. “They call him the Son of the Sea.”
The dormant rage in my chest hummed in approval of that name.
I ignored it, turning my attention to Addae. “Back in the dining hall, you mentioned before someone is chosen as a vassal, they only hold a tiny amount of D?n or Llyr’s power, right?”
Addae nodded.
“Why would he be taking part in the Anoethau if he’s clearly been chosen as a vassal by some sea god?”
Addae audibly gulped. “He hasn’t been chosen by any god. This will be the third year in a row he has competed. In previous years, he’s made it to the final trial but never got chosen by the gods.”
“But his power is…” I couldn’t find the words to describe how his power felt; overwhelming would have been a start.
Alaw interjected. “There have been others who are born with a heightened level of power before they are chosen as a vassal. But they could only summon a greater volume of light or darkness than most. His ability to control water is unlike anything anyone has seen before. That’s why he was chosen as Ail of the Western Coven, I suppose. ”
As she spoke, a shiver ran down my spine, and every hair on my arms stood upright.
We were too high up for him to hear us, but it was as if he sensed my physical reaction and tilted his head up to the balcony.
In one swift movement, he ripped off his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.
My mouth went so dry I wondered if he’d snatched all the moisture from it with his power.
He was what I could only describe as a behemoth of a man.
Tanned skin pulled taut over his muscled chest, his shoulders nearly three times as wide as his fighting opponent’s.
Intricate swirls of ebony ink came from below his trousers and wrapped around his entire body, finishing just under his jaw.
On each of his biceps, I could make out the shape of a sword, the hilts decorated with unknown sigils.
One word came to mind as I took in his body. Thick.
His auburn beard was neatly trimmed around full lips, and his wavy red hair fell down his tattooed chest, just past his elbows.
The hair at his temples was shaved, and each side of his head had an intricate plait that pulled his hair back to reveal his devastating face.
A black ring was pierced through each of his nipples.
Reaching over, he pulled the lid off a barrel filled with water to the side of the weapon rack. His azure eyes locked with mine again, and the grin he flashed me was one laced with pure arrogance.
This was a man who clearly knew how incredible he looked.
With a flick of his hand, the water from the barrel lifted and formed a ball that hovered over him. He winked before tipping his head back and waving his palm, causing the ball of water to disperse and rain down on him like a shower.
He washed himself at a painfully slow speed, running his huge hands down his abdominal muscles and then back up his chest around the back of his neck.
I tracked a single droplet that dripped from his lips and ran down the expanse of his neck and over the curve of his Adam’s apple.
I felt the urge to lap it up with my tongue as wetness pooled in my underwear.
Gods, I really needed a fuck.
Once the water had run out, he shook his head like a dog and tied it back at his nape. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Alaw and Addae were both glaring at me. I turned to look at them and shrugged.
Addae broke the silence first. “I don’t think I’d still be standing if he made that kind of eye contact with me while doing”— he ran his hands up and down his body in a poor imitation—”that.”
Before I could reply, a raised voice sounded from below.
“Hope you enjoyed the show,” the cocky bastard shouted as he bowed at the waist.
Straightening to his full height, he reached out an open palm, and a double-bladed axe that was as big as my torso flew across the clearing, landing perfectly in his open palm.
With his friend in tow, he strode towards us. “We’ll be back same time tomorrow,” he threw over his shoulder as they passed through the archway underneath the balcony.
I pushed away from the railing and stormed towards Jazz, who was standing at the double doors.
“Uch, what a cocky pig,” I spat.
Jazz let out a long sigh, seemingly as unimpressed by the display as I was. “You can say that again.”