redith.
Draven didn’t counter or even bother to strike. He didn’t even sweat. He just stood there like a damn statue, deflecting every blow without so much as blinking.
I swung again, harder this ti—a right hook he caught midair without even looking.
His hand wrapped around my wrist, firm but not cruel, his head tilting just slightly as if to say, ’That’s all you’ve got?’
I yanked my hand back and stepped away, frustration boiling in my veins. "This is boring," I snapped, wiping a bead of sweat from my temple.
His lips quirked. "Is it?"
"Yes." I glared at him. "You promised a duel, not... whatever this is. You are just standing there, blocking like a damn training dummy."
Draven’s smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened.
"This is supposed to be a duel," I pressed, taking a step closer. "That ans treating like an equal, not humoring ."
The silence that followed was taut, charged. Then, finally, he tilted his head. "Are you certain that is what you want?"
I lifted my chin. "Yes."
The air changed, and just like that everything else changed.
The warmth in his eyes hardened into focus. The calm beca sothing else, sothing lethal.
I could feel the pressure rolling off him like a wave. My instincts scread at to step back, to rethink my decision, but my pride kept rooted.
Then, from behind us, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
"Oh, I couldn’t miss this for anything."
I turned to see Dennis striding toward us, grin plastered across his face, Jeffery just behind him, shaking his head like he already regretted tagging along.
Dennis’s grin widened when his gaze t mine. "Don’t mind . I just ca to make sure my dear sister-in-law doesn’t end up breaking my brother’s pretty face."
I gave him a flat look. "You should worry about your brother, not ."
Jeffery sighed, his tone dry. "Or maybe we should worry about both of you."
Draven didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, he said quietly to , "Very well, redith. You wanted a duel..."
Then his voice dropped into sothing low and dark. "Now you will have one."
The mont he spoke those words, I felt it ripple through my skin, and before I even saw him move, he was gone.
No, not that kind of gone. Draven was too fast for my eyes to follow. The next second, I felt the rush of wind behind .
My instinct scread, and I dropped low just in ti for his leg to slice past where my head had been a heartbeat ago.
My pulse thundered as I understood one thing now. My husband was serious now.
I hardly had ti to think before he was on again. His movents were a blur—precise, deadly, yet controlled.
Every strike ca close enough to make feel the air split against my skin, but never quite hit. I countered, blocked, and barely dodged. My arms stung from the impact of his deflections.
He was holding back, I knew it. But even holding back, he was terrifying.
I leapt back to gain so distance, gasping. My boots slid against the sanded earth of the training ground, and I looked up to find him standing just a few feet away, chest rising slowly, calm as if he had rely taken a stroll.
"You said you wanted a duel," he said with a smooth, deep voice, the kind of voice that could command storms. "Show . Fight like you an it."
I clenched my fists. His words struck deeper than they should.
Fine. This was what I wanted.
I rushed him again. My movents were faster and sharper this ti, my strikes fueled by the heat in my chest.
Draven blocked one hit with his arm, sidestepped the next, and caught my leg mid-kick — then, with effortless power, twisted and threw off balance.
I hit the ground and rolled, breath knocked from my lungs.
Before I could recover, he was there, crouched in front of , eyes gleaming faintly gold under the setting sun.
"Already tired?" he teased.
I swung at him. He caught my wrist again. This ti, I used my other hand and slamd it against his chest, pushing with all the strength I had. It didn’t even budge him.
He smirked. "Better."
I could hear Dennis laughing sowhere behind us. "Careful, brother, she is getting feisty!"
I ignored him and went for another strike, this ti sweeping low. Draven jumped, landed behind , and before I could spin, his arm snaked around my waist, pulling against him.
I froze, my breath catching. His heartbeat was steady, while mine was erratic.
"Don’t hesitate in a fight," he murmured close to my ear. His breath was warm. "Hesitation gets you killed."
I snarled and drove my elbow back into his ribs. He grunted just slightly, and I took the chance to spin free, twisting to face him again.
"Lesson noted," I hissed, wiping the sweat from my brow.
He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that made both want to kiss and strangle him.
Then, he ca at again.
Our movents blurred—strikes, counters, dodges, a dance of violence and heat. The ground shifted beneath our feet, the rhythm of our fight punctuated by the sharp sound of impacts and the steady hum of our breathing.
At so point, I stopped thinking. My body just moved. My instincts, Valmora’s instincts took over. My eyes sharpened, my reflexes quicker than they had ever been.
For the first ti since this started, Draven had to actually block with both hands.
That single victory, small as it was, sent a fierce thrill through .
Draven noticed it, too. His eyes glead with pride, and sothing else—sothing dangerous and intimate.
"Now you are fighting ," he murmured.
Our gazes locked. For a heartbeat, it didn’t feel like training. It felt like sothing deeper, older—as if our souls were speaking through the clash of our movents.
And then, just as suddenly, he stepped back and caught my next strike, twisting my wrist and pinning to his chest again.
The world went still.
I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the faint brush of his lips near my temple.
"You have improved," he whispered. "But not enough to beat ."
"Yet," I corrected, panting hard.
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against my back. "We will see about that."
Dennis clapped loudly from the sidelines. "I think I just witnessed foreplay disguised as combat!"
Jeffery groaned. "Dennis, for once, just shut up."
Reviews
All reviews (0)