“I prefer not to waste time on frivolities,” he murmured as he shifted ever closer. “Try again.”
His hands hung loose at his sides, giving him a false air of ease. Each step contained a lethal restraint and highlighted the predator lurking beneath the skin.
The man exuded danger.
Her pulse hummed with anticipation. Fighting was one of her favorite pastimes, though not many Seraphim enjoyed sparring. Most saw it as unnecessary, but Caro had sensed disaster on the horizon for decades now—a dark whisper in her ear. She hadn’t bothered mentioning it to her High Council, for her young age and inexperience would be ignored.
That didn’t stop her from preparing.
She flipped her knife and lashed out at his abdomen, but he jumped backward with a chuckle. “Better than expected, but not nearly good enough.”
Her eyes narrowed at the insult. She hadn’t been trying to hurt him before, but now she would.
He blocked her first attempt with his forearm, then countered her kick with his thigh. All testing moves on her part to gauge his reaction time, which she begrudgingly admitted to being quite good.
Caro threw one of her knives in an attempt to train Sethios’s focus on catching the lethal item before it embedded in his skull.
She used his temporary distraction to mist behind him and slice his shoulder with her remaining blade. He spun mid-move, caught her wrist and whirled her in a circle to place her back against his chest.
“Not bad,” he murmured, his lips at her ear. She drove her fist back toward his thigh, but he snagged her forearm and stopped the motion with the ease of a man much stronger than her. “Shall we play again, angel?”
Her chest heaved as she stole a necessary breath. He’d bested her far too quickly and without his use of compulsion. “You’ve been properly taught.”
“For much longer than you’ve been alive,” he said softly. “How old are you, Caro?”
No sense in lying to him. “Nearly a century now.”
“So young.” He nibbled her neck as he folded her arms across her stomach. “Your pulse tells me you enjoyed our little quarrel. Tell me, was it the thought of hurting me that excited you so? Or something else?”
“Fighting increases adrenaline, which is what you sense. Nothing more.”
His chuckle vibrated her back. “Oh, Caro, you have no idea, do you?” He let go of her arms. “Drop the knife and place your palms against the window.”
She released the weapon against her will. “That’s not necessary,” she growled as her hands touched the glass.
“As you lost, that’s not your decision to make.” He bent to retrieve the dagger. She had no idea what he did with the other but guessed he pocketed it.
“What now?” she groused, awaiting his next wave of compulsion.
“Quid pro quo, angel.” He traced the sharp edge down her spine, hard enough for her to feel without drawing blood. “I bled for you, so you will bleed for me.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Shh.” He used his opposite hand to gather her hair over one shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. “I’m still deciding where I wish to exact payment, darling. Don’t spoil my fun.”
The metal slid lower to her ass and then to the back of her thighs. Gooseflesh pebbled her arms as he dropped to his knees behind her.
“Wh-what are you doing?” She tried to face him, but her hands on the glass held her in place.
“Spread your legs for me,” he said, forcing her to comply.
She jolted as the razor point met her inner thigh. “Sethios,” she managed to say, her mouth going dry. There were far too many lethal options in that location.
“I’ve always been a fan of the femoral artery,” he murmured. “And Seraphim heal so quickly.”
Caro yelped as the steel pierced her skin in a quick, efficient move. She knew without looking that this gash was far deeper than the ones she inflicted on his cheek and his shoulder. Her Seraphim genetics would heal the laceration in minutes, but to maim her in this way seemed futile, if luxuriant.
“Beautiful.” The word was a breath against her leg. “I consider us even, angel.” His tongue soothed the ache as he laved the open wound he had created.
