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He kneed me in the stomach. Hard. The air flew from my lungs. My blade fell behind me. The Shadow was already running for his sword.
I pulled a throwing blade from my sleeve and launched it at him. It tore through the skin of his hand. In the dark, I couldn’t make out the color of the blood.
I didn’t care. I had drawn first blood.
“Any requests for how I kill you?” I taunted, catching my breath.
He froze.
“No. But I would like to knowwhyyou want to kill me,” he said. His hood faced me, but his shoulders were turned toward his sword.
“The king commands it,” I said simply, readying myself to attack when he moved.
“You don’t dream ofnotserving the king?” His voice was dark and even. The hairs on my neck prickled along my skin. Did he know how many times I had stood in front of the king imagining one of my daggers in his chest?
“That’s the thing about crowns,” I whispered. “When one head falls, they’re placed on another.”
He paused. I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel his eyes studying me. My breath stopped.
“Only if you leave a crown to claim,” he answered after a moment. He bent down, fingers only inches from his sword.
I lunged from the floor and kicked the sword out of reach. He swung his leg. I jumped but landed wrong on my ankle. My legs were unsteady from the wine. I fell just as the Shadow straightened.
I pushed off the floor, my hands above my head. I landed on my feet.
He lunged at me without a weapon.
I didn’t have time to grab my dagger. I ducked.
He punched again. I stepped to the side. I swung my arm. He dodged it. We traded blows back and forth. With the wine, we were evenly matched.
I studied his gait. His steps were even and his shoulders were straight. He didn’t seem to favor a side or a knee.
He lunged forward. I moved left. But he expected that, feinting his lunge and pushing me into the pillar. The plaster cracked against my skull. Black spots flooded my vision. When they cleared, I caught a glimpse of his dark eyes before his hood fell forward covering them in shadow. They were wide, studying my face.
My face.
My hood was pinched between my head and the pillar. I had lost my anonymity and the fight in one blow. But why hadn’t he made the final strike?
“It’s not possible,” he whispered. To himself or to me, I wasn’t sure.
“What are you talking about?” I spat. My head throbbed and I could feel blood matting against my hair. The slice of his blade would cure it just as well as any drink. What was he waiting for?
“You can’t feel it?” he asked, completely ignoring me.
I opened my mouth to repeat my answer, this time not holding back on the cursing, but he stopped me.
His lips were on mine.
I was too stunned to move. He tasted sweet and fresh, like the glacial waters of the Burning Mountains. He pressed into the kiss and a shock of electric current churned through my body. I could tell by the way his hand tightened on my waist that the Shadow felt it too.
The Shadow.
The person I was meant to be killing.
My mind cleared as I moved to deepen the kiss. I ran my tongue along his teeth and felt a sharp prick.
Fangs.
