Chapter 9 #2
“If you knew what they were going to do, you’d be begging us to kill you,” he spat. “Better to be dead than to unleash that on the world.”
“Unleash what?” She moved closer.
Footsteps approached, and she quickly ducked out of the tent. His words haunted her. What were they going to do?
She returned to Casyl’s tent. Where else would she go?
She stood to the side of the tent, waiting as men filed out behind Ruven. Tharos’s voice drifted to her through the fabric. She moved slightly closer.
“What happened? I can tell by your face that something did.”
“I made a mistake,” Casyl replied.
There was a pause. She held still to listen. Some of the conversation was too quiet to hear, and then Tharos said solemnly, “What have you done? If he finds out, he’ll use this against you.”
“I couldn’t stop it,” Casyl said quietly.
“You should have tried harder!”
“I don’t think I can do this to her.” Casyl’s voice wavered.
She hurried away from the tent, her cheeks flushed. They were talking about her.
What couldn’t he do to her, and who would use this against him?
*
“There you are,” Ruven said, startling her.
When Casyl had walked out of the tent, she had run through the camp to avoid him. There was nowhere to go. She sat on a log near the central campfire, fury burning hot in her stomach.
“Yes, here I am. Where else would I be?” She pressed her lips together.
He shot her a sidelong glance. “Are you alright?”
She didn’t mean to take it out on him, but he was one of them.
She nodded.
No, she hadn’t been alright since her return to the mountain. The decision had become her greatest regret.
He perched on the log beside her and watched the two soldiers spar in silence.
He raised his brows briefly. “Fancy showing them how it’s done?”
She laughed.
“I’m serious. You look like you could use the release.”
“They’re soldiers,” she protested. “I don’t stand a chance.”
“I saw what you did last night; besides, you’ve trained with the best.” He winked.
Ruven walked over to the sparring soldiers as they finished. The big, beefy one had knocked his opponent to the floor. “Valaen, pass us one of those wooden swords.”
“I’m not sparring with you!”
“Scared?”
“Yes!” He laughed.
“What about her?” Ruven pointed at Amelia.
Valaen’s brows knitted together. “But she’s human… and a she.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t say that to Danae!” He laughed. “Don’t underestimate her.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” He threw the sword at Ruven.
He offered it to Amelia. “Here.”
“He’s massive. There’s no way I can beat him,” she said in a hushed voice.
“Remember what I’ve taught you. He is bigger, yes, but you are faster. Use that to your advantage.”
She glanced down at the sword, hesitating.
She drew a breath and released it in a huff. Her hand clasped the hilt. She walked over to where the big fae stood.
Men had gathered around to see what was happening.
They began circling each other. She waited for him to make the first move.
He lunged, and she leapt back as the wooden sword narrowly missed her. She’d expected it. His comrades taunted him.
He launched a barrage of attacks, his wooden sword slicing through the air as she danced around him, dodging.
Its impact stung the outside of her thigh as he scored a glancing blow. She winced, already feeling the bruise forming.
She spun, and her sword struck his shoulder as he turned to follow, earning a cheer from Ruven. The corner of her mouth twitched.
His movements became sluggish, and that was when she launched her onslaught. He moved back, surprised by her ferocity. Her sword sliced through the air, and he lifted his to parry, just as she slid her leg behind his, knocking him off balance.
He fell to the ground. Before he could rise, she held the point of her sword at his throat.
The surrounding men roared.
She laughed, holding out a hand to the big fae. He took it and stood, sweat pouring down his face.
“You’re fast for a human.”
“Or maybe you’re just slow for a fae,” Ruven teased as he walked over to them.
The men stopped their jeering. They all went quiet.
“It’s my turn.”
She turned to the voice.
Casyl stood at the edge of the group, holding the other wooden sword. Unable to meet his gaze, she turned her back, but the thought of hitting him with a sword was too appealing.
“Fine,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. She took her fighting stance.
He winced as he took off his jacket. Good, she thought.
The men were quiet as they watched them. No cheering or taunting this time. Casyl was their leader.
She wouldn’t use her ability. He was already injured. She’d fight him fairly.
They circled each other.
She attacked first, but he parried, their wooden swords clattering together. They danced around, dodging each other. His movements blurred.
He was playing with her. She knew it. That, or he was humouring her, which was even worse.
She rushed in, sword raised, but even injured, he was faster than her. In two moves, she was on the ground with his sword pointed at her chest.
She lay there panting as the men cheered for their leader.
What an ass.