Chapter 8 #2
Instead, I guided her hands to form a hammer grip at first—and then, on second thought, I loosened her fist a touch and nudged her thumb so it rested against the crossguard.
A saber grip would give her greater reach and enhanced precision, and make more sense for her brain as we focused on mobility and finesse.
“We’re going to start by practicing your thrust attacks,” I continued. “Use your thumb to direct your movement, extending your elbow forward. Raise your other blade up in a defensive position—Yeah, just like that.”
The fact that Arken had natural instincts for combat probably shouldn’t have been doing things to my cock, but then again, there was something wrong with me.
I continued to guide her through the motions of a forward thrust before moving on to slashing and cutting.
We would return to the fundamentals again for the sake of mastery, but Arken needed variety to stay engaged.
After giving her some visual examples of a series of moves in slow motion, I had her try to emulate them.
It was a solid attempt.
“Are you sore?” I asked, eyeing her ribcage.
Arken bristled. “No, why?”
“You’re positioning yourself more defensively on your left side than your right, favoring it,” I explained.
“Sometimes muscle memory is just like that—your body remembers where it’s been hurt before.
You’re going to have to actively challenge that instinct before it becomes a weakness or a tell for your opponent to exploit. ”
“Isn’t it already a weakness?” Arken muttered, eyes darkening as her lashes dropped, staring at the floor.
I tilted my head. “How do you mean?”
“I mean clearly, with the Leshy—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I interrupted, holding up a hand.
“What happened to you in the Wyldwoods was my fuck-up, Arken. It had nothing to do with your weaknesses and everything to do with the fact that I wasn’t shielding you properly.
I don’t think I ever formally apologized for that, so allow me to do so now.
I’m so sorry, Little Conduit. I got distracted, I thought I’d—Well, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is that I failed to keep you safe, and I will never let that happen again. ”
Arken’s eyes glistened as she looked away.
“Kieran, that’s not fair,” she murmured.
“I chose to follow you into that clearing. I’m the one who refused to let you go alone.
That’s on me. You can’t claim responsibility for me not knowing how to defend myself against a daemon.
A majority of the population doesn’t know how to defend themselves against a daemon—they don’t have to anymore. ”
“The fact that you managed to do anything at all against the Leshy with only seconds of instruction ahead of time is a testament to both your bravery and your strengths, Arken. You cannot blame yourself for getting hit. That wasn’t weakness, it was just my fucking fault for focusing so hard on offense that I wasn’t quick enough to shield you. ”
“If I were stronger, you wouldn’t have even had to shield me in the first place!” she countered.
“And if I had wings, I wouldn’t have to walk anywhere,” I retorted.
“Listen, I’m not trying to blow smoke up your ass and pretend you don’t have weaknesses.
We all have fuckin’ weaknesses.” I pointed at my blind eye to emphasize the point.
“But we work with the resources we have in the moment, Arken. And we honor those resources. You cannot utilize what you don’t acknowledge.
You did good in the Wyldwoods that night.
You actually did really, really fucking well. ”
She’d landed a blow that half of my recruits would have botched on their first try.
And according to my cadre, the Leshy had been rather easy to dispatch once they’d arrived on the scene, already weakened by the burst of Light arcana she’d managed to force into the daemon’s mutilated, bark-covered body.
She truly had no idea what she was capable of.
“Your weaknesses do not negate your strengths,” I said softly.
She hadn’t said it out loud in so many words, but I saw it in her eyes. I heard the whispers of certain insidious insecurities in her voice.
“And you are defined by your potential,” I continued.
“Not by your mistakes. Not by your limitations. And certainly not by the worst things that have happened to you. The Fates are cruel, and accidents happen. But I need to know you don’t blame yourself for what happened that night.
It was an accident, Arken. I’ll forgive myself for it, but only if you forgive yourself first.”
“I’ll take it under consideration,” Arken murmured. “But I also disagree with your first point. I can hardly celebrate the growth I’ve yet to achieve—it doesn’t belong to me, yet. I don’t want to be defined by my potential—everybody has potential.”
“No. Not like you do, Arken.”
Exasperated, Arken ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “You’re biased.”
“I’m really not,” I argued. “Not when it comes to this. You have more potential than at least half of my own fucking cadre, Asher. Don’t give me that look, I am not exaggerating here.
Listen, I have faced off against some of the most powerful Conduits in this godsdamned realm, okay?
So believe me when I say the amount of arcane aptitude I’ve seen you display as a half-trained first-year is mind-boggling, and quite frankly, a little fucking terrifying. ”
She flinched at that. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” she said quietly.
I scoffed and shook my head. “I’m not.” Not in that way. “Not even close. You misunderstand what I’m trying to say, sweetheart.”
“Well, fuckin’ explain it better then, Vistarii.”
I stifled a smile, so very amused by her temper.
“I hate to be the one to break this to you, Little Conduit, but you’re not the only one in this room with rare and exceptional talents,” I said, my smirk breaking containment.
“I am stronger than you, and maybe, if you’re lucky and incredibly dedicated, you might just eclipse me one day.
But that day is too far off to be of any concern to me. ”
She seemed to take this into consideration, bringing her eyes back to mine.
“But other people? Normal people? Certain handsy bastards slinking down dark alleyways? They should be afraid of you. They’d be stupid not to be.”
“Do you enjoy it?” Arken asked.
“Enjoy what?”
“Being powerful. Being feared.”
Now that was a loaded question. And yet the honest answer escaped my mouth before I had time to self-edit. “Yes. And yes.”
Ah, Hel. Why did I always have to run my mouth around this girl? I swallowed a grimace, remaining outwardly calm while alarm bells sounded off in my head.
Now, why in the godsdamned fuck would you go and tell her something like that?
Because she’d asked.
I wasn’t exactly proud of that answer, even if it was undeniable.
There was another reason I enjoyed dominance, after all.
A much darker reason. Beyond personal preference and beyond what got me off, the desire to hunt, master, and command ran deep in my veins.
Something truly predatory existed in the cruelty of my bloodline, and the truth was that I didn’t just enjoy being feared.
I loved it. I lived for that shit. The panic before predomination.
Any game of cat and mouse was made that much sweeter when you know your victory is essentially inevitable.
I don’t want you to be afraid of me, she’d said in earnest.
And yet part of me, a very fucked up and deranged part of me, absolutely wanted to taste her fears, if only to lick them off her trembling tongue so that I might swallow them whole.
Predatory instincts aside, the last thing I wanted was to see this girl running for the hills.
I was about to attempt to explain myself, or at the very least, abuse my silver tongue to make her feel less unsettled, but as I snapped back into focus, I realized that Arken was…
sort of smiling? More to herself than anything else, as she seemed to take a thoughtful moment to process my answer, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, and then nodded with newfound confidence.
I cocked my head in abject fascination as she began to loosen up again, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Again?” she chirped.
Sweet fucking Hel, Little Conduit. What even are you?
Maybe this girl really was made for me.
“Again,” I agreed with a wicked grin.