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I do as he says, exhaling a slow breath. When he steps in close behind me, I press my lips together, fighting the urge to close my eyes and lean into the warmth of his chest against my back.
Shit, I need to focus.
“Now what?” I force out.
“What does your gut tell you?”
“Uhh, right now, it’s telling me to run.” The urge to put distance between us is about as strong as the one to whirl around and kiss him, but I’m not about to reveal that.
“That’s fair,” he says in a low voice, resting his hands on my hips. “Your body recognizes danger. It has detected a predator and your fight or flight instinct has kicked in.”
“So I should fight, right?” I say, a little breathless with the way his hands are warming my skin. “That’s the whole point of this.”
“When it comes to vampires, it’s best not to run. But you already knew that. So if you can fight them, do it.”
“And if I can’t?”
He leans in, his breath stirring the hair tucked behind my ear. “Then you’re most likely dead.”
“Great,” I breathe.
His grip on my hips tightens. “This training is more for your peace of mind than anything else, Calla. You won’t have to use what I’m teaching you when we’re around.”
“There will come a day where that won’t be an option, so it’s important for me to learn, because if Selene tries to—”
Atlas spins me around to face him. “You don’t have to worry about her,” he assures me. “She won’t get close enough to hurt you, let alone sire you.”
The blood drains from my face at the thought, and I try to step away from him, but his grip holds. “Atlas…”
“You’re scared of becoming a vampire,” he comments, and the gentle tone of his voice is something so foreign to me, I finally look at him. There’s no glamour behind his words, but I still find myself nodding. No sense in hiding it.
I don’t want to be a vampire.
Atlas exhales through his nose, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip and nodding. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I echo, my brows pinching together.
“It’s not a discussion we need to have right now, Calla. Let’s focus on your training.”
“Yes, please,” I say in a tight voice, trying to ignore the voice of panic in the back of my head. The one telling me to put distance between me and Atlas, to turn and run the hell out of here—not that I’d get far. The idea of eternity is far too big to think about without raising my blood pressure. I’d much rather focus on learning how to protect myself from being forced into vampirism.
“Good.” He steps away from me, walking over to one of the cabinets built into the wall, and pulls something out. He walks back to me and holds his hand out, revealing a black leather-bound blade.
After a moment of hesitation, I take it from him with a frown, turning the sturdy handle over in my hand. “You’re giving me a dagger?”
“It would appear that way.” I want to roll my eyes at the mocking tone of his voice. Then he says, “The blade is infused with white ash.”
My eyes widen. He’s just handed me a rare, very lethal-to-vampires weapon. “Don’t you think that’s a little risky?” I ask him, tightening my grip on the hilt of the dagger, testing the weight of it in my hand. It feels good.
His lips twitch. “If I thought for a second you’d try to use this on me or the others, this would be a much different discussion, Calla.”
I arch a brow at him. “What makes you think I won’t? I’ve stabbed you before,” I point out.
He wraps his fingers around my wrist, but instead of applying pressure to make me release the dagger like I thought he might, he says, “Are you planning to stab me?”
“No.” The word leaves my mouth before I can clamp my mouth shut, the urge to answer honestly too strong to ignore let alone fight.
“What about the others?”
