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A brief look of satisfaction crossed his face before he rallied. Our fight turned intense, bordering on the edge of violence. I gasped as his sword grazed my forearm, which was as cold as his fingertips had felt earlier.
Jack’s eyes glowed, and for a second I glimpsed the predator beneath his noble facade. My heart raced—but I didn’t know if it was out of fear or something more dangerous.
“You’re welcome to put on armor at any time,” he said, not even the slightest bit winded.
“But I won’t need it, will I?” I said with a mock curtsy. “Not with as good of a teacher as you.”
Jack’s lips quirked, and I ran at him full speed. My arms burned as I blocked his blows, struggling to keep up with his vampiric speed and strength. Sweat began to bead on my forehead, a stark contrast to the icy ground beneath my feet.
But I wouldn’t give up.
I couldn’t.
Suddenly I was lying on my back. I didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was still holding onto my sword. I immediately pointed it at Jack’s chest.
“Good. You’re learning,” he said, circling me. I could hear a hint of genuine approval in his voice, and I felt a surge of pride at his praise. He motioned with his hand for me to come at him once more. “But you’ll have to do alotbetter if you want to defeat the Red Queen. Again.”
The rhythmic sound of our swords clashing filled the courtyard, each strike sending a burst of adrenaline surging through me as his sword pushed me to my limits. Each swing and thrust forced me to adapt, to move in ways I never thought possible. I could feel muscles I didn’t know existed screaming in protest.
Thanks to my regular spin class, I was no stranger to physical exertion, but this was a whole new level. This felt like survival. With each parry, each dodge, I was learning not just to fight, but to keep alive the hope of a world teetering on the brink of darkness.
No pressure or anything.
Just the fate of the world resting in my weak-ass hands.
Jack’s next round of strikes came faster, more aggressive, more complex, as if testing how far he could push me. I sidestepped, barely avoiding the blade. My heart was pounding in my chest, a wild rhythm that echoed the clashes of steel on steel.
I gritted my teeth and swung at Jack again, sweat dripping down my brow. I would prove to Jack that I was worthy of being his apprentice. Each time I fell—every single bruise and scrape—only fueled my determination.
I wouldn’t break.
Other than a few water breaks for me, we sparred all morning and into the early afternoon. On the low beam, on the medium, along the agility ladder, our bodies constantly moving in tandem...push, pull...push, pull. All of it was part of our dance.
Our training was like a seductive tango, each move calculated and precise. Bodies bending to one side, then the other. Jack’s blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy, teasing my skin with an icy touch...like a deadly lover’s caress. With every parry and thrust, our bodies moved in perfect harmony, advancing and retreating from each other in a fierce battle.
I couldn’t help but notice how Jack’s muscles rippled under his leather armor with each powerful thrust and parry; how his hypnotic red eyes lit up with excitement on the rare occasion when we managed to trap each other in a stalemate. The way our gazes locked when our swords met. The way his nose was just a few inches from mine.
It was intoxicating.
Addictive.
And I found myself wanting more.
“You’re not that bad,” he said as he stopped and took a step back. He sheathed his sword, making me wonder if we were done for the day. I watched his arm muscles bulge and flex as he reached behind his head to tie back his hair.
I tried not to stare, but holy shit—he was a beautiful creature. Such a perfectly shaped mouth...so many hard, sharp lines in his jaw, along his nose. No wonder some other vampire had decided to preserve this perfect specimen of man until the end of time.
As Jack smoothed his hair back with his fingers and tied it low at the back of his neck, every movement of his chiseled face had me mesmerized. He was beautiful, powerful, and moved in ways that had me thinking less about practice and more about his raw masculinity.
Watching him do something so common and mundane made him seem almost...human. Almost...vulnerable...a stark contrast to his usual cold exterior. His eyes flicked up at me and I gulped as if I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.
“Your parry could use some work.”
God help me. His voice was smooth as silk.
“Oh yeah?” I countered, faking offense. “Maybe you can show me what you have in mind?”
He stepped closer, our bodies almost touching, and guided my hand and my sword through the proper motion.
