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He pulled the bloodied blade out of his thigh with a snarl and started toward me. “You stupid, worthless bastard. Have you not learned your lesson? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more ignorant.”
My palm became slick with moisture, and I gulped. I knew better than to react before thinking—my stupid impulsivity was going to get me killed this time.
Aeron slashed his knife at me, and I ducked, remembering my lessons with Talon. He didn’t think I’d fight back. He was too comfortable. Aeron thought he was in control of this situation.
And that was the same reason he wouldn’t expect what I did next.
Coming back up, I threw my arm out as quickly as possible and punched him in the nose.
The snap that followed fueled me with pride.
He licked away the blood that dripped from his nostril and grabbed me. My back slammed into a hard wall; my breath caught—not from the impact, but from the long sword that appeared in my peripheral vision.
The tip of the sharpened blade dug into the crevice of Aeron’s Adam’s apple, and his face paled. The familiar scent of teakwood enveloped me, and every nerve ending swelled with delight.
Talon.
“Put the knife down.” His calm voice made my chest flutter.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, allowing myself to relax into Talon as he pulled me to his chest.
Aeron kept his snarl in place, refusing his orders.
“I will not repeat myself. Do as I’ve said, or you’ll be disqualified from the trials. Or don’t. There’s nothing I’d enjoy more than tying a noose around your neck.”
Aeron faltered.
I’d never seen him afraid, let alone anything resembling uncertainty. I imagined the lethal, pointed look Talon must be giving him to match his violent timbre. Likely the same one I’d seen a few times. How nice it felt not to be on the receiving end for a change.
Goosebumps erupted on my arms as his grip on my waist tightened. How was it that he made me feel safe? My guard, my captor.
Talon dug the tip of his blade further into his neck, cutting into his skin until Aeron dropped the knife.
He straightened his vest as he took a step back, the color returning to his face as his false confidence returned. “As if you fae deserve any respect.”
Talon twisted his sword at his side and slammed the hilt of it into Aeron’s head—knocking him out.
His body dropped to the floor with a thud.
“Disgusting waste of space,” he mumbled and released his grip on me, wiping the residual blood on his sword across his pants.
I turned to face him—his expression cool and pleased. “Thank you.” I licked my dry lips, and his gaze flicked to my mouth before he sheathed his sword behind his back.
The air between us thickened as I read into his words, wondering if there was something deeper to them. Wondering if I dared to ask.
Talon’s voice softened for only me to hear. “You need to stop letting him get to you.”
“I swear it’s a curse. I think my fight or flight is broken.”
“That’s why we train.” He lifted my chin with a finger. There were no traces of malice remaining on his face, only gentle consideration. “And we’ll keep training until you’re the last one standing. We’ll break whatever mental block is standing in your way, but in the meantime, don’t let it break you. Yield to nothing and no one.”
I nodded once, wishing I could live up not only to his expectations … but to my own.
“Good.” Talon dropped his hand. “Nice right hook, by the way, that’s the girl I’m rooting for.”
I allowed myself to smile, bashful and flattered, and my cheeks burned red. I wasn’t sure how we got here, or if things would remain this way, but I could get used to it.
Somehow, through our training sessions and endless bickering, I found myself liking Talon. And that voice that shamed me for it—that warned me against it—was growing quieter. It was strange and made no sense, but no matter how hard I tried to fight it, something inside me refused to listen. He hadn’t given me any reason not to trust him. He had defended me when I hadn’t been deserving of it. Healed me when I lay dying. Protected me instinctively.
