Chapter 26
Pick Up Your Blade
Cora
My eyes caught along the edge of the blade as Cedar twirled it around beneath the moonlight.
We were standing in a field just past the rose garden.
He was dressed in what he referred to as his fighting leathers—leather pants, boots, and a tight black shirt that matched the guards stationed around Raiden’s manor.
His dark hair was still down along one shoulder, thin braids throughout it.
The scar down his face on display with his hair pushed back.
I’d done my best as time went on to become used to him. His masculinity. The protective aura he always gave off that he managed to mix in with a gentle nature towards anyone who needed it.
Cedar was a conundrum, one I found myself perplexed by often.
However, I had a distinct feeling that those feelings wouldn’t be leaving this field with me.
“So what’s the point of this again?” I questioned as my fingers clasped around the dagger in my palm.
My tights were black tonight, a deep burgundy top clung to my curves, and my boots were tied tightly up my calves.
I had two weapons if we went by Cedar’s standards.
One dagger in my hand, and a broad sword that I’d already been yelled at for stabbing into the grass beside me.
It felt heavy and awkward in my hand, so I didn’t need it.
“The point is, you were almost killed a few nights ago. What don’t you understand?”
An arched brow had his jaw going tight as he stared across the space at me.
“The part where you think I almost died is a little fuzzy,” I mumbled.
“A male was atop you, a knife to your throat Cora.”
“Which I had under control, darling.”
“How do you see it that way?” he shot back, the impatience clear in his tone as he watched me tap the flat edge of the blade against my thigh.
“Knife point at your throat, Cora. You have no concept of how to protect yourself,” he continued, but he walked over and grabbed the dagger from my hand. “And, no respect for the weapons that could save your life.”
I rolled my eyes now. “I don’t need them. I’m my own weapon. Or do you need a reminder?”
His eyes met mine, the fury in them clearly encased in a well-known heat.
“And when the magic fails?”
“Why would it?”
He shook his head, the annoyance with me clear.
“Exhaustion. Shadow stone. You could be wounded. Who knows, Cora. But anything could happen and all that could save you is this blade. So take it,” he growled, shoving the dagger handle back in my palm, “and let’s practice.”
Refusing to roll my eyes and annoy him even more, I grunted out a, “Fine,” and stared at him.
“Your first goal should always be to block the vital parts of your body. Where would that be?” His voice was the perfect level of authority and I tried to ignore how much I wanted to piss him off right now.
“Will there be a quiz after class?” I questioned in the soft voice he hated so much.
“Cora,” he growled, resulting in a sigh from my lips.
“Fine, have it your way. Head and heart.”
Cedar nodded. “Good.”
Over the next hour or so, he spent time showing me the best way to block different weapons, stances, and even how to use my size to my advantage when faced with someone much larger than I.
I was tired, sweaty, and the longer we went, the harder he came at me. As if he could just will my brain to wish to be here.
It wasn’t working.
He had me on the ground, his knees on either side of my hips, his blade at my throat, when I finally decided I’d had enough. He’d already disarmed me, my hands clasped his forearm and I let my ice magic flow through my hands followed by a shock of magic.
Surprise caught him and I rolled, tossing him off my as he shook out his sword arm and glared at me.
We sat in silence until he finally rose back to his feet and let out a huff.
“I said no fucking magic, Cora. What if—” he began, but I stood to my feet, and with both hands, pushed him.
“What if what?” I found myself yelling. “What if I’m captured? Beheaded? Shadow stone dagger to the back? Keres comes back and fetches me once more?”
The sound of his name made Cedar freeze.
“Stop it,” he muttered. “None of that will happen.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving as it all sank in. He was scared. Terrified, even, and instead of trying to face it, he was burying it.
“Stop trying to fret over me, Cedar. I am working through my thoughts and feelings. Can you say the same? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not battering down the hatches over everything that has happened to you in the months you spent in that hole?”
He flinched.
“This has nothing to do with—”
“It has everything to do with it!” I interrupted once more.
“Everything. You’re free, yet you don’t accept it.
Constantly worried about being sent back, and honestly I understand.
I’m a guilty party in the art of burying emotions, but I’m trying to speak on them.
I’m trying to give those fears life so I may snuff them out once and for all.
But teaching me to make someone bleed isn’t how it’ll happen for you.
I don’t want a dagger. I don’t want to kill anyone I mustn't. I only killed for a reason, and a rare occurrence it was for me to find joy in it the way you do here.”
His gaze dropped to the ground and he was silent for a long moment.
“May we try a different approach? Let me show you how to use the weapons with your magic. At least if you have a single blade on your body, I’ll feel better if something happens.” His voice was pleading as his eyes met mine once more.
Releasing a long breath, I nodded.
“Fine. Pick up your blade, raven shifter.”