Page 66 of For the Ghastly and Beautiful

Ada bounces back to her feet every time I take her down. Her movements are thought out, strategically taking the occasional hit while dodging others. I see no damage.

I know she has had injuries in the last couple of weeks, but she hasn’t visited Imryll for healing. Not that I’m aware of…

Except that one time for her ass.

Ada says we’re sadistic for giving her a sword with a sharpened blade, which I didn’t understand. William laughed until he cried when I asked about it. I would never find satisfaction in her pain; however, I do find it when she flips me flat on my back in the sand.

Her fierce glare is incredibly sexy as she stands over me.

“Show me the water thing—”

“No.”

“Talodus,” she whines slightly, bored with the physical training and ready to move on to elemental work.

“Okay,” I relent with a grin, unable to deny her anything when she says my name like that. “You have to follow my instructions, though.”

After she nods, I tip my chin. “Get on your knees.”

“Here? What does that have to do with—”

“Yes, Ada. Right here.” A mischievous glint brightens her hazel gaze, and I shake my head. “Stop looking at me like that. We’re in the middle of—.”

“We were in the middle of something in my room, too,” she interrupts. “My mind is still trying to get on board with the rapid switching of topics. From orgasms to rolling around in the sand wasn’t difficult. Now, you want me on my knees, but we’re not going full circle.”

I tilt my head and stare at her.

“No sex.” She throws her arms in the air as she drops to kneel in the sand. “Fine.”

I shift at her side, sitting down as I watch her posture. If she grows too weak, the slight changes in her shoulders will tell me when to stop. Endurance while fighting typically comes in short bursts, but using your element is a constant constraint until you’re done.

“Close your eyes.”

“Imagine a drop of water in your palm.”

“Good. Now, draw more.”

Her hand fills, but the water doesn’t spread. It stays in a sphere, rotating in her palm.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Drawing more water into the drop I started with.”

She’s been using the element since she got here. I keep that in mind as I move from the beginning lessons to something more advanced.

“Throw it, and pull it back immediately.”

“Like a yoyo?”

“Sure?” I don’t know what that is.

The ball of water flies forward, then snaps back, not losing shape when it lands in her hand. I scratch my jaw, wondering when that became such an effortless task. I’m skilled in offense, but that move took me months to master. She makes my attempts seem sloppy in comparison.

“Return the water.”

At once, it disappears into her palm, not a drop lingering or lost. I furrow my brows, trying to figure out if she understands what she’s doing or if she’s working on instinct alone. Neither is wrong, but one changes the speed of our lesson.

“Draw water from my body into my hand.”