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I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I could do nothing about the sheen over my eyes, though. "I'm always up for kicking your ass, Wane van Khama."
Van Khama. Never Locke.
The edge of his wide mouth curved up, some of his shadows thinning as he held out a hand. "Let's go find it, then."
I slipped my hand into his, rubbing my thumb over his scarred knuckles.
"And—Haley? Don't let go, even when it's hard for me. I need to fight this, and I need to win."
My stomach cramped. "Okay," I agreed even if that sounded impossible. I was his mate; I was hardwired to protect him, to fulfil every one of his needs. Ignoring him if he needed me to let go would be near impossible.
His body locked, even his fingers taut with tension as we ventured into the hallway, poking our heads into every new room. We finally found a wide, low-ceilinged space on the third floor that was obviously meant for fighting; mats were propped against one wall, another was full of windows, and the remaining two were covered in wooden sticks, swords, daggers, and whatever the hell else Wynvail had gotten his hands on.2
"I need—" Wane began, clenching his jaw as a wave of nausea rippled through him. I fought the impulse to release his hand. "I need your hands on me. So no weapons."
"Okay," I agreed worriedly, bringing his hand to my mouth for a quick kiss. "No weapons."
"Touch me as much as possible," he rasped, his voice already hoarse from a century of torture but now? Gravelly, deep, and rife with pain. His eyes were distant too, not entirely seeing me.
"Wane…"
"Please, itzaia," he breathed.
My heart tightened. I nodded, taking a steadying breath. This was going to be as hard for me as it was for him, but if this was what Wane needed, I wouldn't hold back.
I stepped into his personal space, pushing down my instinctual flinch at the blind panic in his soul, his emotions completely open to the bond. I brushed a quick kiss to his cheek and whispered, "I meant what I said, Wane; I'm gonna kick your ass."
He laughed when I drew back and released his hand so I could curl both mine into fists. The sound was raspy and weak, but defiant as fuck. Strength poured through his soul, and I reached for my battle calm, pulling it over me so I could assess his stance.
I dove at his left, but I must have been too obvious—or Wane just knew me inside and out—because he caught my fist in both his hands and wrenched me closer. His lips landed on the sensitive spot behind my ear, making my breath catch.
"I win a move, I get to kiss somewhere on your body. You win, you get to kiss somewhere on mine."
"Can I kiss your cock?" I asked, because I knew it would make him laugh, which it did.
He rolled his eyes, drawing back. "Not now, greedy girl."
A shudder went down my spine, and my poor, sore holes clenched.No more,they pleaded.We can't take it, please.3
Wane's eyes darkened like he'd followed my train of thought back to last night. Or like he sensed the sudden pump of arousal in my soul. I hadn't planned to distract him with sex, but hey, if it worked…
I took more time with my next strike, feinting left again before diving right—he knocked my wrist aside, grabbed my waist, and spun me so my back smacked into his front.
He shuddered hard, trauma tearing through his arousal, but he ducked his head and kissed the spot on my shoulder where Em's big shirt had ridden down.
"Kick my ass? Oh, Halwen," he taunted, spinning me free.
My head spun, but I smirked, riding out the dizziness. "That'sit,van Khama. You're going down."
"Hmm," he mused, clenching his fists at a wave of brutal nausea. "Good idea; maybe I'll leave my next kiss on your pussy."
My mouth fell open in outrage. Sohewas allowed to kiss my pussy, butIcouldn't kiss his dick? How was that fair?
I yelped, so distracted that I missed Wane darting toward me, his body moving with unfamiliar strength but a grace as familiar as my own reflection. He was always fast, but he’d honed that speed somehow. He snapped the side of his hand into my shoulder, silver eyes flashing with victory.
I grinned right back."Oh, no,I lost. Howawful.Looks like you're kissing my pussy." He rolled his eyes, smirking right back until I teasingly said, "Kneel," and every bit of light bled from his face.
"Shit," I breathed, recoiling so hard my soul hurt when I realised I'd triggered him into a memory.
