“No swords,” I snapped. He’d be more likely to overpower me that way. “But he can use anything else he wants. Or we can start without them.”
Leaving the sword at the edge of the ring, I checked the weapons at the mouth of the ring, just outside the ropes. At any point in the match, I could grab one—if I could make it over there in time.
Jabari offered him a dagger and Rykr shook his head. “I don’t need it.”
Jabari crowed, smirking at me.
“You son of a bitch.”
Rykr smirked at me as we squared off. “Now who’s the noisy one? I thought you were working.”
“We were ordered to the sparring rings today.”
“And you came to visit me? I’m touched.” His eyes glinted. “You could have chosen another champion.”
The crowd around the ring had grown more silent, leaning forward with interest. Men and women were treated as equals in battle here, but Rykr had won so many matches that I doubted anyone would hedge their bets on me.
I ignored his tease. “You’re doing a good job displaying your skills to the tribe.” My gaze fixed on the pulse of the vein near his throat and the jagged rune there. “They’re going to see you as even more dangerous and watch you more closely.”
He shrugged. “I’m not particularly worried.” He gave me a sharp look. “I’m not planning on taking it easy on you. I don’t enjoy losing.”
“I’m shocked,” I said dryly. My exhaustion wouldn’t help anything, but I didn’t tell him that. He’d just think I was making preemptive excuses.
But he had to be tired, too.
I assumed the starting position, waiting for him to take his place.
The starting bell rang. Considering how easily he’d handled his last opponent, I’d have to be quick on my feet. To win, I’d have to be the first to make three strikes that counted as fatal moves to my opponent—I’d be lucky if I could get one before Rykr did. My best bet were daggers and spears, but I might do well without any weapons at all, too.
We circled each other, our eyes locked. “Did you miss me?” A cocky grin hooked up on one side of his lips.
Gods, he had a way of making me want to punch and kiss him at the same time.
My head tilted to the side as I considered a response, a spark of rebelliousness rising through me. “About as much as a hen misses a fox.”
“I’m assuming I’m the fox in this scenario?” His eyes glinted.
I launched forward, moving with speed as I jabbed him on his wounded forearm. He blocked my next jab—to his solar plexus—then attempted to catch my wrist as I spun a swift kick to his side.
Surprise lit his eyes and he lunged back, out of my reach.
“No, you’re the bastard who’s standing between me and breakfast. Stop talking and just fight me. I’m here to spar, not to talk.”
“Sounds like you’re not planning on winning.” One dark brow rose slightly. “My favorite part of sparring with a beautiful woman is when she’s not quiet. Don’t forget, Seren, this time we’re playing without chains.”
Son of a bitch.
I didn’t dignify the taunt with a response, leaping at him with a flurry of precise strikes. He blocked about half of them, but each time my fist or the ball of my foot connected with him, served as a reminder of what I was up against: no softness here—punching Rykr was like taking my fists to a tree.
The pain fueled me, sharpening my focus.
“Why aren’t you feeling my pain anymore?” I asked as we circled each other.
“It was the first thing your mother taught me to block.”
“But we can still mind speak.”
“Different parts of the bond.” He tilted his head. “Is this your attempt to distract me?”
