My power, at full strength once more, settles back into its rightful place within me, sending a quiet ripple of pleasure through my body.
For too long, I have caged it, shackled myself to conform to the ideals of men—to protect their fragile minds so that I may stand among them to lead them.
My outer cloak rests over my shoulders, clasped at the throat by a silverlite medallion. The same divine essence that wafts from Cali now trails from my cloak. I cast the edges aside as I stand at my full height and face the woman who, for some asinine reason, has made herself my adversary.
Her iridescent light-green eyes are fixed on me. Her expression is tempered, but fierce.
She will not be able to see past the void beneath my hood to meet my gaze, seeing as no light can penetrate the shadowed veil unless I will it to do so. But damn, does she try. Her gaze remains steady, unyielding, even when I take measured steps toward her, and she begins to retreat.
You devious little witch.
I project my awareness toward her to see if, at this distance, she can hear me.
There is an almost imperceptible flinch, and her eyes flash with malice.
Hmm. Interesting.
She takes several steps back as I prowl forward.
Will she run? Does she believe herself capable of escaping my wrath?
You can try to flee from me, but you won’t succeed.
She doesn’t. She simply moves away from the cracked earth onto more sturdy, unbroken ground, then unclasps her mask, letting it drop to the dirt at her feet. My guess is that it hinders her breathing, based on the deep inhales she takes to steady herself.
Digging the toes of her boots into the soil, she reaches behind her and withdraws twin blades from her back. She thrust them outward, blades down, as she prepares to face me.
Her white hair falls across her face. Her heavy breaths blow a few strands away from her lips, but the rest curl stubbornly around her features. Freckles stand stark against the pale canvas of her skin and gather in a cluster over the bridge of her pert nose.
She wears minimal armor, only enough to protect her weak points and vital organs. A small chest piece. No chainmail. No gauntlets or leg braces, which is foolish of her. Losing a limb can be just as deadly as a blade to the chest.
Her worn black cloak is sun-bleached, with layers of muted red and brown garments beneath. Her trousers appear to be animal hide—tight and worn at the knees. Boots rise high along her calves, and the belt at her waist carries a cache of weapons.
Blades, mostly.
As I close the distance, she shrugs the cloak from her shoulders and lets it fall, freeing her movement. With the sweep of her forearm, she clears the hair from her face.
I pause long enough to soothe Calixis as I pass, running a gloved and gauntleted hand along her flank. She relaxes beneath my touch, her head turning to nuzzle sweetly into my shoulder. Smoke trails from her nostrils in a sharp huff, as though she disapproves of the entire affair.
In truth, so do I.
But not entirely.
I have wanted a closer look at this strange creature who has remained so elusive. I was prepared to use any means necessary to lure her to me and capture her. Yet here she stands. She has delivered herself on a platter and drawn me beyond the city walls so that I might face her as I truly am and not behind the false visage I wear among men.
She’s done all of the work for me, it would seem. I have half a mind to ask why, but one must not look a gift horse in the mouth, as my mother would say.
I’m curious, though…
In her little mind, does she imagine this differently? That she is the hunter and I am the prey?
Oh, Little One. What a vivid imagination you have. Condescension leaks from my tone. Is there a scenario in your little mind where you think this ends well for you? Because if so, I have to say, you might be deluding yourself. I very much doubt you understand the consequences of your actions. And whatever ending you pictured here, I can guarantee this won’t go as planned.
If she believes this has not worked entirely in my favor, she is gravely mistaken.
With gritted teeth and another flinch, along with a slight widening of her green eyes, she moves, racing toward me with her blades raised.
I smile and pivot smoothly to the side. Both hands close around the pommel of Luxor as I meet her attack with one of my own.
