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“I can take over for you if you need a break,” Titus says, having a conversation over my head as though I shouldn’t get a choice in the matter.
“I really shouldn’t,” Dion says, yet his hand slips from my shoulder. “On the other hand, it might be beneficial to see if his training techniques are more your style.”
I suck in a sharp breath and turn my glare on Dion as he grins. “You better—”
“Good luck, God of Vengeance. You’ll need it.” Dion cuts me off and turns on his heel, merrily strolling away as though he isn’t leaving me here with a dangerous god that nearly got me killed.
“That was entertaining,” Titus chuckles.
“Shut up,” I grumble, internally cursing Dion for leaving me here.
“I see you’re making friends everywhere you go, Warner,” he says pointedly. “It must be that charming personality.”
“I am charming,” I scoff, my brows creasing in outrage. “I’m just selective.”
“Sure you are. Now are we going to train?”
I narrow my eyes on him as I scan down his body, realizing belatedly he isn’t wearing his usual suit. Instead, he’s dressed in a loose white cotton shirt and dark brown leather pants. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I didn’t know you were so concerned with my wardrobe.” He chuckles, the sound making my teeth grind.
“I’m not concerned. It’s just not your usual look,” I say on an indignant huff and cross my arms.
“I had to go to the infernal realm on business,” he says smoothly, as though traveling back there is supposed to make me believe he’s really on Liv’s side.
“Does Liv know?”
“She went with me,” he says, shaking his head. “If she can forgive me, why can’t you?”
I purse my lips and roll the question around in my mind. Liv explained the situation after our run-in the other day, but I still can’t shake the outrage and anger that linger whenever I see him. I know he wasn’t the one that killed me, and now I know that he was playing a role the entire time. But as crazy as it seems, it’s almost like I expected more from him.
I shake my head, trying to dispel that thought. I can’t expect more from him. I don’t even know him.
“Fine, are you going to teach me or what?”
He frowns back at me but motions for me to take my place. “What did the commander teach you already?”
“The best offense is a good defense,” I say, mocking Dion’s uptight tone.
“He really said that?” Titus asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.
I can’t help but return his smile, but I wipe it away the second I realize it, not wanting him to think we’re becoming friends or something. Barf.
“I actually think it might be the other way around,” he taps his chin in thought before shrugging his shoulders, apparently not caring that much. “Anyway, I’m guessing he was trying to teach you how to block an attack?”
“Yes, it was a whole lot of whooshing,” I say, waving my arm up and down to mimic his blocks. “And not a lot of fun.”
Titus’ grin widens at this, and my stomach flips at the sight ... not in disgust but in excitement?
“You want fun then?” His light brown eyes light with mischief and I swallow thickly, wondering what kind of disaster I just walked myself into. “Try to hit me.”
“What?” I snap, sure I must’ve heard him wrong.
“I said, try to hit me,” he repeats slower.
I let a moment of silence stretch between us as I wait for the punchline, but it never comes.
“Are you serious?”
