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I executed every movement in time, fighting against an invisible opponent with all my force.
By the time I finished the challenging sequence, I wanted to collapse onto the dirt floor.
To my surprise, a scattered round of applause came from above. For the first time in hours, I looked up at the raised levels.
Cole and I had attracted an audience. Hecate and Daphne had come to watch. But not just them. Others crowded around, peering over the railing to watch. Mainly soldiers, by the look of it. In their gazes was a newfound respect.
“Not bad,” Cole said.
High praise from him. I flashed a grin, then lifted my tank top to wipe the sweat from my forehead. My body was slick with it, but I’d never minded. Better sweat than blood.
Cole growled a low sound. I dropped the shirt and looked at him, confused. But his attention wasn’t on me, it was on the crowd a row up.
The males up there hastily looked away, busying themselves with whatever was back the way they’d come. Cole’s growl faded.
I hid a grin while I swallowed large gulps of water straight from a carafe someone had brought. Was Cole jealous of those other males seeing my exposed stomach? I wasn’t sure how it mattered, since only a few days ago, Hecate had advised me that showing off my goods apparently sent a message. Still, the possessive look he flashed my way sent an electric thrill down my spine. It made me want to stand up straight.
“Let’s really give them a show.” I lifted my blade, flat side up in question to Cole.
“You think you’re ready after one day of training?”
“I might not beat you,” I agreed, “but I bet I can give you a run for your money. I mean, have you ever had a better student?”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever taught, little wolf.”
“So what you’re saying is Iamyour best student.”
That got a hiss of laughter, finally wiping the dark look off Cole’s face from when he kept glancing up at the onlookers.
“You’re the best of everything,” Cole said.
For one moment, I was weightless.
“But not better than me.”
Without warning, he charged. His sword went from a limp blade at his side to a deadly weapon with a flick of his wrist.
Block.
My defense snapped into place. The clang of steel shattered the easy atmosphere. Cole’s eyes met mine, the glint of the metal reflecting in his eyes for one precious moment. Then he pushed farther, harder, and I jumped back.
He lunged again.Dodge. Lunge.Dodge. Lunge.Block. I was on the defensive, losing ground with every inch.
This won’t do.
I might not be good enough to win, but I’d be damned if I let everyone see Cole back me into a corner without breaking a sweat.
Block.Block. Then, a break in his perfect form. I thrust my blade forward, but he anticipated my movement. His blade met my own, shoving my sword up. The tip of his weapon grazed my tank top as I barely danced away in time.
“Had enough?” he taunted.
“Never.” I might be losing, but gods, sparring with Cole was fun. I might never be sure where I stood with him, but here, in this ring? Every moment was electric. The crowd was nothing. It was him, me, and the clash of our weapons, serving as its own secret language.
Our dance resumed. I could counter his strikes, but getting my own in was difficult.
If you can’t win, change the game.
He backed me farther and farther. After hours of training, I was exhausted, even with my supernatural stamina. A minute of dueling with Cole was more taxing than an hour of drills. It was no surprise to him that my strength flagged. My shoulders slumped. I kept blocking, but my strikes came slower.
