“Did I hit a nerve? What, the Powers thought you were too insignificant for their games, so you had to crawl to Hell to find someone who’d tolerate you?” He didn’t have any apparent soul wounds, but he could’ve died and become a redeemed soul, earning back his power and healing his wounds, or he was blood-banded.
His pale face flushed, almost matching the brightness of his hair, and he flew at me. I twisted out of the path of his fists, only to have him come at me faster. My body knew what to do before my mind could catch up. I weaved to the side and snuck through his guard, sending a hook into his ribs. It connected, and a full-blown smile took over my face, teeth and all.
Theon stumbled back, more from shock than my weak punch, I assumed. Veins bulged in his arms and neck, his fists clenched white-knuckled, and his glare could’ve killed. He had no idea I could fight. He probably thought I’d be out cold by now. Hell, I wasn’t sure my body even remembered how to hold up after all this time.
His weight shifted forward, and suddenly I was fifteen again, standing in our yard as my mother forced me to study every subtle shift and twitch in her body, to anticipate how she’d strike.
I let him close the distance. He lunged, and I pivoted to the side, kicking in his knee.
He slammed to the ground, rolled, and blasted me with his power. I whipped up my arms to protect my face. Theon stood, smashing his fists into my ribs. I gasped, hunching over, and had anunnerving sense of déjà vu. I could almost hear my mother’s voice snapping at me to move and widen my stance. I was off balance and in a weak position. But I didn’t—now or in the past.
Theon threw a powerful hook to my jaw, connecting and sending me to the ground. My head hit hard, specks of light dancing in my vision. For a second, there was no pain, until my vision cleared and blood pooled into my mouth. I groaned.
Theon stood over me and smiled. “You almost look good down there, Hell-whore. But you just need one more thing,” he said, then spat on me. “There, much better.”
The scene flickered, replacing the black and red uniform with white, and ginger hair with blond. Crackles of ice whispered in my ear, begging me to let my Infernus free. I dug my nails into my palms, blinking away the image of Michael.
I glanced at Alexei and swore I saw him nod in encouragement. I had to get up—I had to show them.
“Unfortunately, you don’t look so good from down here,” I said, grimacing at Theon’s groin.
As expected, he lurched forward, taking my bait. I scissored my legs around him, pulling him to the ground with his momentum, and immediately straddled him. Before he raised his guard, I punched his nose twice, hearing the satisfying crunch of his cartilage.
“Bitch,” he said, arching his hips to throw me off.
He knocked me forward instead of off, positioning me inches from his face. I spat blood and grinned. “My favorite endearment.”
Enraged, he smashed his forehead into my nose, returning the favor, and sent me flying back with a blast of water. Stunned, I had a difficult time shaking away the black specks. But I needed to stand.
I tried to roll when his boot slammed into my stomach, snapping something. I cried out, shoving at his leg. He stepped off me and smirked as I scooted away. After taunting me with a few inches of space, Theon followed.
I looked to the side, expecting Alexei to step in. Weren’t there rules to these fights?
But he only watched, flipping a dagger as if he had no cares in the world. The general and Rune were still gone, Oliver and our squadmates were too busy fighting or practicing, and Moira gave two shits as she smiled at me from afar.
Fuck.
Theon formed a sphere of water in his palm, bouncing it with each languid step. It grew until it was just bigger than my head.
“It’s too bad we have an audience. Makes killing you a little hard,” he said, pouting. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a taste of what your future holds.”
I stopped scooting and grabbed a fistful of sand, letting him close the distance. I didn’t have much of a plan besides distracting him.
The moment he got within reach, I lashed out, throwing the sand in his face. Immediately after, I clenched my teeth and stood, but it was no use. Theon’s water wrapped around my head and stole the breath from my lungs.
I dropped to my knees, clawing at the water. He loomed over me on the other side of the blurry surface, laughing.
“You want to play dirty? I can play dirty, Hell-whore,” he said, his voice muffled and distorted.
The whispers in my ears raged at me to do something. It was no longer the crackling of ice but the haunting melody of my Hellfireseeking retribution. The more I suffocated, the more I let the melody take over.
Theon’s eyes gleamed, pupils blown wide as if he relished every breath he stole. His mouth lifted in a savage grin. He looked drunk on my torture, and something in his expression told me he wasn’t going to release me.
He was going to kill me.
Itches spread across my skin, but before my flame erupted, the air shifted behind me, and shadows circled my wrist, their touch gentle and soothing.
His presence seared into my back. “I know how to play dirty too.”
