87. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
“I won’t use my gargoyle form,” Samhail insisted, cutting Surgeon off. “If I’m going to prove I deserve my claim, I’ll do it in a fair fight.”
Talyn’s eyes met Samhail’s for the first time then, and she had to steady herself at the look of longing she saw in them. She almost never cried, but she blinked back the tears that threatened to gather.
Nemesis fucking damn him. She wanted to hate him for what he’d done, for what he was forcing her into, but instead she found herself wishing she hadn’t rejected his claim.
Talyn looked away. There was still time for her to call this off and accept the claim, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Pride wouldn’t let her. Neither would that last thread inside her that insisted she couldn’t be with him, couldn’t put her trust and hopes for happiness in him.
She was an assassin. That kind of life just wasn’t in the cards for her.
“May the better fighter win,” she said, glancing back at him.
She’d meant to sound confident and proud, but her voice broke over the words, and something shifted in Samhail’s face as he looked at her.
“I’d like to speak to Talyn alone for a minute,” Samhail said without looking at his brother and sister.
The twins turned and retreated to the side to give them some privacy.
“I won’t accept the claim, so save your breath,” Talyn said when they were out of earshot.
The corners of Samhail’s mouth turned up the barest amount. “I didn’t think you would.”
“Then what exactly did you want to talk-”
Her words were cut off as Samhail’s hand shot out and wrapped around the back of her neck. His lips stifled her cry of protest as they came down on hers, and his tongue delved into her mouth as he held her hostage to his kiss.
Her cry of protest turned to a whimper as she tried halfheartedly to push on his chest, but his other hand came up to cover hers, and then she couldn’t fight it anymore.
This might be their last kiss, and Talyn let herself enjoy it as she tried to memorize the taste of him and the feel of him against her.
She wanted desperately to wrap her arms around his neck and lean into his body, but she couldn’t do it with Cyra, Bressen, and the two gargoyles looking on.
Samhail lifted his lips and turned his head to whisper in her ear.
“Whatever happens today, I need you to know I’m in love with you, Talyn of Avril,” he whispered.
Talyn let out a choked cry and tried to jerk back from him, but his hand tightened against the nape of her neck, keeping her from pulling away. The side of his forehead rested against hers as he went on.
“You need to know I’ll be fighting as hard as I can to win, not because the Right of Primacy demands it, but because I don’t want to lose.
I can’t lose,” he said, speaking faster, more urgently now.
“I can’t lose you. I don’t regret claiming you.
I know I don’t own you. No one could ever possibly own a woman like you, but whether you accept my claim or not, we both know the truth. You. Are. Mine.”
He punctuated each of the last three words, and something backflipped in Talyn’s stomach, even as the traitorous muscles between her legs clenched in anticipation.
“You’re mine,” he repeated. “I think you know that, and one of these days you’ll admit it. But for now, if you need to fight me, then go ahead and fight me. You were right. It only makes me want you more. If you wanted to get away from me, then you picked the wrong way to do it.”
His voice had turned to a growl, and Talyn swallowed as she fought to keep herself from whimpering at his words. Protector save her, he had no business saying such things to her.
Samhail released her head and pulled back suddenly. She nearly stumbled forward but caught herself in time. She tried to speak, but Samhail turned abruptly and strode back to where Bressen waited for him, the lord’s own mouth wide-open in surprise.
She forced herself to turn and walk back to where Cyra stood. Her legs felt unstable beneath her, but she managed to make it back with her head held high, her anger growing with each step.
How dare he do and say those things to her right before their fight? He was trying to put her off-balance, and it was fucking working.
By the time she stopped in front of Cyra, she didn’t even believe what he’d said anymore. He’d used a kiss to distract her once before, and he was doing it again to ensure he didn’t have to suffer the indignity of losing to her. She’d seen the way Surgeon smiled at her rejection of him.
Worse than that, Samhail had told her before that gargoyles didn’t fall in love. He must think her an idiot to believe it now.
“What did he say to you?” Cyra asked cautiously as Talyn examined the weapons on a nearby rack.
“Nothing of importance,” Talyn snapped. She was in no mood to have this kind of conversation with one of Samhail’s former lovers.
“That was quite a lie you just told me,” Cyra said, sounding awed. “I’ve never seen anyone glow that red before.”
Talyn glared at Cyra before going back to checking the weaponry.
“Whatever he said obviously upset you,” Cyra went on. “You can’t fight him like this. You need to have your head straight if you have any chance of beating him.”
Talyn smiled wryly. “Anxious for me to beat him so you can be rid of me?” she asked without looking up. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon, and you’ll have him all to yourself again.”
Cyra grabbed Talyn’s arm, and Talyn met the lady’s eyes just in time to see a quick flash of red in them.
“Let’s get a few things perfectly clear here,” Cyra said, annoyance evident in her voice.
“The only thing I want with regard to Samhail is his happiness, and for reasons I’m still not entirely clear on, you seem to make him happy.
My involvement with Samhail is over. It’s you he wants.
Any fool can see that in the way he looks at you. ”
Talyn huffed a laugh and shook her head.
“He told you he loved you just now, didn’t he,” Cyra said knowingly.
“He lied to me,” Talyn said.
“No, he didn’t. Whatever he said to you was the absolute truth or I would’ve seen him glow red.”
Talyn paused, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay.”
“Why not?” Cyra asked, her voice growing desperate.
Talyn didn’t get the chance to answer as Surgeon and Serise called for them to get ready to begin.
She took one last look at the weapons and chose a shortsword to go with her dagger.
She wasn’t as good at fighting two-handed as Samhail was, but the sword was more of a decoy weapon anyway.
If she was going to beat Samhail, she’d do it with her dagger.
Talyn looked at Samhail and was relieved to see he had his two usual swords. He had long arms and long swords, but she didn’t intend to be out in the path of them. She planned to stay as close to him as possible.
Samhail was too fast and too good with his swords for her to have any hope of fighting him in the usual way, but if she stayed within a foot or two of him, he wouldn’t have room to swing the razor-sharp blades at her.
The swords, coupled with his reach, normally afforded him a cushion to keep attackers at bay, but she could port inside his reach and attack with her dagger where he wouldn’t be able to block her with his swords.
It was her only chance. She’d have to be sure to stay away from his elbows and fists, but at least she’d be safe from his swords.
Just then, she also noticed he wasn’t wearing his leather armor, except for his vambraces.
She herself was wearing vambraces and a soft leather vest over her shirt that would afford a small degree of protection to her torso from mild swipes, but she’d refused any other type of armor.
She wasn’t used to fighting in it, and she needed as much mobility as possible.
She wasn’t sure what to think of Samhail’s lack of armor.
A former version of her would’ve been offended, would’ve assumed he was trying to show her he wasn’t afraid she’d hit him, like when he’d had her tie his hand behind his back to fight Kostas.
The newer version of her, the one that wouldn’t let her admit how much she cared for him, wanted to believe he was trying to make the fight as even as possible.
If she wasn’t wearing armor, he wouldn’t either.
Talyn and Samhail both stepped forward to the center of the training yard and stopped about ten feet from each other.
Even from this distance she had to look up at him, and she tried not to notice every rippling muscle on his body, from his lightly flexing biceps to his corded legs and everything in between.
How did she always forget how big he was?
Surgeon and Serise again came up to stand to the side between them.
“Are you both ready?” Serise asked.
“Yes,” they said together.
“Serise and I will bear witness to this fight and determine a winner,” Surgeon said. “We’ll also decide if there are any infractions that violate the Right of Primacy.” He glanced at Samhail, who glared at him.
“Will you accept the results as we determine them?” Serise asked.
“Yes,” they said again.
“Very well then,” Surgeon said as he and Serise stepped back. “You may begin when this dagger hits the ground.”
Surgeon held up an ornate ceremonial dagger with a bejeweled silver handle. He raised it, paused, then threw it down so it stuck in the ground.
Talyn only saw the dagger hit the ground out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t need to see it. She only needed to see Samhail. Her eyes were locked with his midnight blue ones, and she saw everything she needed to know in the way his pupils flared.
The fight for her freedom – or perhaps for her love – was on.