Page 140 of She Who Holds My Wrath

Gods… he looks fucking delicious.

He’s dressed in tight fighting leathers, his shirt sleeveless, exposing tattooed, muscled arms glistening with sweat. It’s only early June, but the heat is brutal, and the sun catches on his tanned skin every time he moves.

I unsheathe my own sword from the scabbard at my back, the ruby glinting wickedly in the light.

“She’s going to hand you your ass, Child of Ruin.” Maelkar laughs. “You’ve slacked off for far too long.”

He flips Maelkar off without looking away from me. “Don’t hold back, princess.”

I smirk. “Never.”

We move at the same time. Our swords collide with a ringing clash that vibrates straight down my arm. I grit my teeth and pivot quickly, duking low and sweeping my foot out beneath him. His balance breaks instantly.

He hits the sand hard, dust exploding around him. I spring forwards, placing the tip of my sword directly against his chest.

“One point to me,” I say, grinning.

He arches a brow, lips twitching. In the blink of an eye, he twists, hooks my ankle, and suddenly I’m on the ground instead—my sword skidding away as his forearm pins lightly at my throat.

“Not quite, my love,” he says with a wink, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of my nose before helping me back to my feet.

“That was dirty!” I snap with a frown.

“You expect the Six to play fair?” he asks, head tilting mockingly.

I scowl and flick my wrist, launching a small ball of flame at him. It vanishes the second it reaches his chest.

I gasp. “Did The Void just⁠—”

“Swallow your fire?” he cuts in grimly. “Yes.”

“Well, at least we know the Six can’t vaporise you.” Lucifer laughs, strolling up to Maelkar’s side.

I shoot him a glare and turn back towards Korithax, reaching for him. He takes a weary step back, shaking his head.

“Kori,” I say softly. “It’s okay.”

“Let’s go again,” he says, ignoring it entirely.

“Can I?” a voice cuts in.

A soldier steps into the ring. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with deep bronze skin and honey-coloured eyes. His dark hair is cropped close, and he stands at least six-foot-five. Golden armour gleams against his body, the Solaran sun etched boldly into his chestplate.

One of Sariya’s soldiers.

He bows low, reaching for my hand. I place mine in his large one, smiling politely.

“Your Majesty,” he says smoothly. “It’s an honour to be fighting alongside your kingdom. I am Vakariah.”

He presses a kiss to my knuckles. Instantly, rage scorches through the bond. I glance sideways to see Korithax staring absolute daggers through Vakariah’s skull.

“Please,” I say, quickly pulling my hand away, heat creeping into my cheeks. “Call me Daisy.”

“Daisy,” Vakariah repeats, almost seductively. “So, how about us sparring together?”

I can hear Lucifer and Maelkar snickering behind me.

“I’ll spar with you,” Korithax growls, stepping in beside me.