“Yes, I imagine that comes with the training.”
“Right then, Lynx, if you would–”
A wall of muscle wrapped around my neck. The pressure of a solid arm dug into my shoulders. I gasped, fingers grasping at the black tunic beneath my chin as he leaned in, his body heavy against mine.
“The first lesson is to stay calm,” Jerek’s voice cut through the roaring in my ears.
“Gods!” Tallon cursed, but my focus was on the scent of leather and man that engulfed me, thick and suffocating.
Lynx’s arm remained firm, not crushing, but holding. No real danger—but still, fear crawled along my skin, racing through my veins.
“I want you to move slowly,” Jerek continued. “Think about what you’d do. No mistakes now. Forget what’s right—just slow down.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm clashing with Jerek’s calm instructions.
“I would grab my dagger?” My voice was muffled, my chin bouncing off the hard muscle of Lynx’s chest.
“If your dress would allow it.”
A sharp reminder of Draconis fashion. How did Radaanian noblewomen defend themselves? Judging by the men’s reactions, most likely none of them dared try.
I yanked at the hem of my skirts, imagining my dagger still tucked there. My left hand clenched into a fist and swung back, but the giant was too tall. Heshifted his body, avoiding my strike and jostling me in the process. I squealed, stumbling over my feet.
“Always stay on your feet,” Jerek said, circling us.
I fought the urge to slap him, wishing he’d try wrestling this beast.
“Go for his shoulder.”
My fist hit the spot where Lynx held me. Harder than necessary? Probably. But he deserved it for yanking me around like a rag doll. He grunted, releasing his grip on my neck. I gasped for air, a grin tugging at my lips.
Then his hand shot out, fingers curling around my throat. A scream clawed for release, but the burn of his hold tightened my chest, choking the sound.
“Stand down!” Kallias’ roar sliced through my panic.
I stifled the scream, jerking away from Lynx’s grasp. My hands flew to my neck, rubbing the skin, fighting the sting.
The king stormed between us. His tunic sleeve was torn, stained with crimson. My shock deepened when I realized Tallon had struck him.
“Thresher, you are dismissed.”
Lynx didn’t flinch at the king’s order. Unbothered, he left the arena, his steps echoing with quiet authority.
“I’m fine, Your Majesty.” I forced the words out. “He just surprised me.”
“And she will be surprised, my king.” Jerek’s frown deepened. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I can’t teach her to fight without first teaching her to defend herself.”
“Never use a Thresher with her.” A command, firm and final. “That is not their duty.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“Perhaps I should train with her,” Tallon said, smooth and mocking. He strolled toward us, his eyes gleaming. “She’ll be my wife, after all. If anyone should have their hands on her, it should be me.”
Heat rushed to my face at the thought—his arm around my throat. Lynx’s towering presence seemed far less threatening.
“You’ll save those touches for after your wedding.” Kallias’ jaw tightened as he faced me. “My apologies, Princess.”
He had tried to teach me. To show me how to defend myself, how to use my dagger beyond the basic knowledge that the pointy end went in first. But I messed up. And now, there was nothing more he could offer. We were tethered by our titles.
