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Theron let out a low growl as he dropped the last piece of armor at his feet. His skin was lightly bronzed in the sunlight, shimmering with sweat and heat that seemed to pulse through the surrounding air. I could see his chest rising and falling with each breath, eager for the fight ahead of us.
“Ready?” He asked me huskily, taking a step closer until we were almost touching again. I sucked in a deep breath before exhaling, trying to steady my racing heart. This wasn’t just a physical battle anymore; it was much more than that now. And it didn’t matter that we were surrounded by soldiers and rebels alike. My body responded. My eyes roamed his figure unabashedly, and a shiver ran down my spine at the memory of his touch. I had little clothing to adjust, something I showcased as I tucked the panels of my skirt into my waistband, causing Theron’s hand to convulse on the handle of his blade.
“Come on, Striker! Get him!” One rebel shouted, causing Zerek to shout encouragement to Theron.
Theron gripped his blade, the twin to mine, as we circled each other, the sand sliding underfoot. All around us, the world seemed to fade, leaving only the two of us in our private arena.
“You’re breathtaking when you’re holding a sword,” he murmured, his voice a low, teasing caress that sent a shiver through me.
I shot him a playfully reproachful glance. “You should see when I have two of them.”
He chuckled; the sound resonating deep within me. “Not happening,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the view.”
I feigned annoyance, but couldn’t help but grin. I lunged at him, my sword cutting through the air. He blocked it effortlessly, the ring of our blades filling the courtyard. Our movements flowed in a dance, bone clashing in a rhythm that increased as we fought. He was powerful, but I matched him with my speed, darting in and out, looking for an opening.
I circled him warily, my blade raised and poised to strike. The heat radiating from his gaze was like lightning coursing through my veins, urging me forward.
He spun around, his sword sweeping toward me. I blocked it, but he pulled me close. His warm breath fluttered over my face, the citrus and leather scent of him filling my nose.
“Come on, Kaella,” he whispered, his voice a seductive invitation. “Show me what you’ve got.”
I shoved him back, my foot shooting out to hook his ankle. He jumped out of the way, an impossible leap for anyone else, my blade just missing him.
“Get him, Kael!” Raenisa shouted and Theron laughed.
“Who’s side are you on, Rae?”
He parried my next strike, a teasing grin on his lips that drew me forward, my competitive nature pushing to the surface. I wanted to win, to dominate, to be a daughter of Atar. I struck harder, faster, making him work for each inch of ground, my sword moving so fast it was a blur.
We were like two separate forces, clashing and colliding in search of balance. His eyes glinted with admiration as he twisted and lunged at me, his movements growing faster and more fluid. I met him every step of the way, my muscles burning from the effort but never faltering.
He leaped forward with an unexpected burst of strength, driving his sword towards my chest. I gasped and jumped backward, but not quickly enough; the tip grazed my skin, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake.
I stumbled back on shaky legs, eyes wide with surprise at the rush of wetness between my thighs.
Theron stepped forward, his gaze burning with a primal hunger that sent a thrill through me. He leaned closer, his lips hovering just above mine as he murmured, “I win.”
The words were like a caress and my body responded, my nipples hardening as I swayed toward him.
“It’s barely a scratch,” I protested, wanting, needing, to push back against his dominance.
Raenisa’s voice, half-teasing and half-exasperated, broke through the charged moment. “Get a room, you two,” she yelled with a sardonic grin. “It’s obvious you’re about to tear each other’s clothes off.”
The crowd erupted in a smattering of laughter and hoots. My face was almost painfully hot as I shot Raenisa a rude hand gesture.
“She can’t help it,” a voice drawled from the edge of the sparring ring, seeped in arrogance. My head snapped to the side, searching for him. Xadrian stood there, arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He still wore the same dark clothing he had the evening before when he’d tried to convince me to run away with him, his shoulder-length streaked hair tied back into a short tail.
“What do you mean?” I asked sharply.
Xadrian’s dark eyes lingered on me, his grin fading. “You’re about to go through your change into immortality. Your emotions—and needs—are heightened during your Ascension. It’s only natural that you’d be drawn to... an available male.” He jerked his chin toward Theron. “Once your transition is complete, it’ll get easier to see clearly.”
“You’re not going anywhere near her when her change comes,” Theron growled, his hand clamped around his sword. His eyes blazed as he took a step toward Xadrian, who looked delighted at the prospect of a fight. Theron had embarrassed him before and he seemed eager for a rematch. But I stepped in between the two of them, my gaze never wavering from Xadrian’s face.
“My relationship is my business,” I said, my voice as cold as Sithos’ fields. “And I assure you that my interest in Theron has nothing to do with any weird elf shit.”
“Kael...” Xadrian’s smile vanished, replaced by a concerned look. I could tell he wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t care.
“We’re all on the same side now,” I reminded him, my words pointed. I knew he had doubted my plan earlier, but it had borne fruit. “We need to focus on Nyana and Theodas, not on each other.”
