Chapter 27 #2
“Oof.” My bestie goes flying into a pile of leaves, and the ghost tiger pounces, pinning him to the forest floor.
“You good, Ash?” I shout.
Asher flashes me a thumbs-up right before Orion’s tiger pushes off and disappears into the trees.
“You’re dead, Hendrix,” Wylder calls out.
Asher wheezes. “Worth it.”
“Okay,” Wylder says, rolling his neck. “Back to starting positions. The rules remain the same. Poppy and Asher are on defense. Orion and I are your enemies.”
“Yeah, baby,” Asher grins, waggling his sandy blond brows. “Enemies to lovers is my favorite trope.”
A chest-vibrating roar comes from somewhere in the forest trees.
Asher adjusts his track pants. “That man is fire.”
I chuckle and give Wylder my attention. “You were saying?”
“You need to be comfortable using whatever you’ve got in your toolbox: magic, physical strikes, whatever it takes.”
“Just don’t burn down the forest,” Asher adds helpfully.
“Great pep talk.”
The two of us share a look and chuckle.
“Focus,” Wylder snaps.
I drag my attention back to him just in time to see the fireball hurtling toward my face.
Instinct kicks in. I raise a shield, pouring power into it, and the flames crash against shimmering blue light. The impact rattles through my bones, but the shield holds.
Wylder’s mouth quirks. “Better.”
Then he’s moving, closing the distance in two strides. I barely manage to dodge his first strike, ducking low and throwing up an earth wall to buy myself space. It erupts from the ground in a spray of dirt and roots.
Wylder vaults over it like it’s nothing. And because his affinity is plant magic, it is nothing.
I curse and roll, calling fire to my palms. The heat surges through me, wild and eager, and I fling it at him in a concentrated burst.
He deflects it with a flick of his wrist, flames rippling gold in the air.
“You’re getting predictable,” he says.
“And you’re getting cocky.”
I feint left, then pivot right, sweeping his legs with a gust of air. He stumbles—just for a heartbeat—and I lunge, slamming my palm against his chest and releasing a pulse of raw energy.
It sends him staggering back three steps.
His green eyes flash with delight. “There it is. Give me more of that.”
My heart pounds, and the forest around us hums with residual magic, leaves rustling in the icy breeze of late-November.
Wylder’s fist comes at my face, and I duck, pivoting to slam my elbow toward his ribs. He blocks, catches my wrist, and twists. Pain flares up my forearm, but I channel it, letting the momentum spin me closer. I plant my foot behind his ankle and shove.
He doesn’t go down. Instead, he releases my wrist and hooks an arm around my waist, pulling me off balance.
“More. Where’s the fire, Hallowind?” he murmurs against my ear.
His body is solid against mine, warm even through our clothes. For half a second, my brain short-circuits. Then instinct kicks in. I slam my head back into his nose.
He curses, releases me, and I stumble forward—right into Orion’s path.
The tiger lunges, claws retracted but teeth bared. I throw up a shield, the shimmering barrier flaring to life just as he crashes into it. The impact rattles through my bones, but the shield holds.
“Good!” Wylder calls, already back on his feet. Blood trickles from his nose, but he’s grinning like a maniac. “Again!”
He moves in tandem with Orion this time. The tiger circles left, Wylder right. I track them both, my heart beating so hard it’s pushing at the base of my throat.
Orion moves in fast. It’s a distraction. I shift my shield to block just as Wylder strikes from behind. A burst of wind magic slams into my back and sends me sprawling.
I hit the ground hard, the earthy grit of dirt gathering on my tongue.
“Dead,” Wylder announces at the same moment a practice arrow hits him square in the back and knocks him forward.
“Dead,” Asher says, grinning ear to ear.
My cheer seems to light Wylder on fire, and it’s on again. He comes at me, and I don’t think. I just act.
I call every element at once.
Fire roars to life in my right hand, while water coils around my left wrist. Air whips through the clearing, lifting my hair, and the ground trembles beneath my feet. Spirit magic blazes blue around me, raw and unfiltered.
Wylder’s eyes widen.
I throw everything at him.
He raises a shield just in time, sage green light flaring bright as my assault crashes against it. The force of it drives him back another step, then another. His jaw clenches, muscles straining as he holds the barrier.
For a moment, I think I might actually break through.
Then his magic surges, and the shield explodes outward in a shockwave that sends me flying.
I hit the ground hard, rolling twice before skidding to a stop. “Damn it.”
Footsteps crunch toward me at a jog, and then Wylder crouches beside me, his expression unreadable. “That,” he says quietly, “was excellent.”
I blink up at him, chest heaving. “Um, hello? I lost.”
“But you brought it.” His gaze drops to my mouth again, lingering. “You came at me like you meant it.”
The space between us feels charged, electric. He reaches to the ground to help me up. When I’m back on my feet, he doesn’t let go of my wrist. Instead, his thumb brushes the inside of my pulse point.
For a heartbeat of a moment, the world narrows to just this—his hold on me, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his gaze drops to my mouth before flicking away.
“Good work.” He quietly steps back to assume a fighting stance. “Again.”