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“What’s wrong?”

I tried to weight the words, find the exact phrasing that wouldn’t make me sound like a coward, but nothing seemed to work. After a moment, I just let the words fall as they may.

“Since… since the assaults, I get nervous around people who are armed. Maybe before that, too, but especially since. I worry that they might… do something similar and I won’t be able to fight them off.”

The pine of his scent lashed out as fast as a whip, and I sucked in a harsh breath, trying to tamp down the immediate urge to run and hide from his anger. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck, his hands clenching and then releasing every few seconds.

“Sorry,” he muttered as his scent dissipated. Then, softer, nearly that croon that sent shivers down my spine, “You don’t know how to defend yourself?”

I shook my head. “The only knife I’ve ever held is in the kitchen while cooking.”

“How did you protect yourself in your Arizona then?”

“We had something called pepper spray.” His brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s… it’s a liquid made from a very irritating material. It makes your skin and eyes burn where it touches. I kept it in my purse any time I was walking outside of our apar—” I switched the word. “Outside of where we lived.”

Understanding smoothed his features. “Ah. Well, at least you had something to aide you.” Then he blew out a breath and glanced toward where Heath still shadowed us. “I can teach you, if you are willing. Ways to protect yourself with and without weapons.” He pursed his lips. “Shortly after my mother’s death, my father asked that I study under the guidance of his best generals. The commander of his armies was aging, and he hoped I might have the predisposition for filling the role. I’ve been general of the Marish armies for over a decade at this point.”

I nodded. “Joseph told me.”

He nodded, too. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, his gaze flicking to Heath again and then down the path. When I followed his gaze, I saw another guardsman whose name I didn’t know. Callum cleared his throat.

“I can have daggers made especially for your hands, your grip, as well that you can carry to help you feel safer.”

My throat clogged with a wealth of emotion.

“Thank you.”

CALLUM

The punch landed in the center of my wrapped palms, harder than the previous dozen.

“Better,” I said as Amethyst prepped for another one.

Tonight, she wore a tightly-fitted, long-sleeved tunic with the leggings from this morning. She’d changed her hair, too. Instead of the two simple braids she’d worn, her hair was pulled back in a single simple braid, the plait itself twisted into a bun and pinned in place at the nape of her neck. A few strands had fallen free and curled against her neck. She twisted one back up into the bun as she shook out her hand.

“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?”

“Sometimes.” I held out my hand in invitation. It took her a moment before she set hers against mine, palm up. I ran my fingers over her knuckles, feeling for swelling or bruising. I couldn’t help but heal a bit of it. Then, I said, “Try to keep the pressure on your first and second finger. This space right here.” I ran my touch over the space. “That’s where the power is.”

She nodded, then stepped back. A fire was in her eyes, burning them until they were nearly translucent, as she said, “Again.”

I eased back into my own position, both wrapped hands held ready. She blew out a breath and then lunged forward, twisting her body and jabbing her right fist into my hand. It hit with a slap that echoed through the empty ballroom. Before I could say anything in comment, she did it again. Then a third time. Then a fourth and fifth. The sixth hit with enough forced I had to take a step back to absorb it.

“Good.” This time the praise was laced with the alpha’s croon, that part of me needing to make it clear she was doing way better than I’d expected of someone who’d had no real training before tonight. “Let’s take a small break.”

We’d been working for nearly an hour with only small moments of rest between rounds of practice. Her chest heaved, the enchanted pendant moving with each ragged gasp, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her temples. She didn’t protest the suggestion this time. Instead, she stepped off the mat and crossed to the sideboard where James had left a pitcher of water and two glasses. Her hands shook as she brought one of them to her lips. I forced my gaze away from the way her throat moved with her swallow and her lips parted around the rim of the glass. Even still, a pulse of wisteria gave away just how much this close contact was affecting me.

Her cheeks flushed darker than just the exercise as her eyes caught on mine. Before I could break the vow I’d made her, I picked up the fabric strips on the edge of the mat and redid the wraps on my hands, adjusting them a bit to better cover the part she seemed the most likely to hit.

I’d intended to teach her a bit of grappling tonight as well, but there was no way I would be able to handle that much of her body near enough to my own. Feeling the heat of her, the slide of her skin and the brush of the fabric of her clothing? My cock gave a an eager pulse at just the thought, and the wisteria swirled around me stronger than it had been in years.

No, grappling—no matter how important for her to know—was not something I could teach her right now. Not with my honor at stake.

Instead, I stood in the center of the mat, my hands raised again. Amethyst pursed her lips and then set the glass down. Her steps were slower this time, her breathing still pretty ragged.

“More?” The exertion wasn’t in her voice, though. She wasn’t quite at her limit.

“Other hand,” I said, nodding to her left hand that she hadn’t used at all. “You need to be able to rely on both. Someone intent on harming you won’t ask which is your stronger arm. You need to be able to fight back no matter how they try to hold you.”