Chapter One
Knights With Big… Swords
“It’s too big,” I panted, muscles straining. “There’s no way I can do this. I can barely even get my hand around it.”
“Come on, Ev.” Sweat dampened Callum’s brow. “You’re a mighty muffin lord, remember?”
“Mighty might be an exaggeration. How much does this beast weigh? Seriously?”
“Here.” Callum stepped up behind me, his warm body flush against my back. He grazed his fingertips along my bicep and down my arm, helping me hold the massive sword. His breath tickled the back of my ear, eliciting a flurry of goose bumps on my skin. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
The feel of him against me erased all other thoughts, and my focus turned to shit. Definitely started thinking with my other head.
The heavy sword fumbled from my hands. And landed right on his foot.
“Gods!” He jumped back and rubbed at the top of his boot.
“Oops! Sorry, Cal.”
Rowan laughed from the porch steps. “Oh, little treasure. Can’t say I’m surprised. That sword’s bigger than you. This fool should’ve known better.”
“Think you can do better, snake?” Callum sneered at him. “Come over here and show us, then.”
“And have my head ripped off when Captain Glutton comes home? No, thanks.” Rowan’s smile slanted, showing a peek of my favorite fang-like tooth. “You know how he feels about his precious sweetheart being around pointy objects.”
“The sword’s blade is dull. I wouldn’t give Ev a sharp one.”
“Like that matters. He could hurt himself on a spoon.”
“Well, that was rude.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not that accident-prone.”
Both of them looked at me, their amused expressions matching.
“That’s enough for now.” Callum rested his hand on my lower back. “I don’t want you overexerting yourself.”
“I feel fine.” Mostly.
A small fib he caught right away. “Time to go inside and rest.”
Sighing in defeat, I nodded and grabbed his hand. Truth was, my stamina wasn’t even close to where it used to be.
Five days had passed since the dark mage slash mercenary attacked me and Prince Sawyer at the castle. The fire spell had then burned through my chest and scorched my lungs. Briar’s healing elixirs had helped, but due to the advanced magic in the spell, it would take more time for me to get back to normal.
Which meant my men were in overprotective mode.
After the café closed for the day—Miles letting me only do the bare minimum because he was also worried about me—Callum had suggested teaching me a thing or two. We’d started with basic self-defense, such as maneuvers to break someone’s hold and the sensitive spots to kick and jab to momentarily stun them, then moved on to sword drills.
If that training had taught me anything, it was that I shouldn’t give up my day job. Master swordsman, I was not.
The setting sun lit the cottage in a dark golden hue. As we approached the porch, I slowly inhaled, letting the late-afternoon air fill my battered lungs. Each breath was a blessing. Precious.
“Hands off my treasure, rabbit.” Rowan stood as we reached the porch and grabbed my wrist, gently pulling me away from Callum. “You’ll get your stench on him.”
Callum tugged me right back to his side. “I’d like to see you try to keep me from him, snake.”
“Know what sounds good for dinner tonight?” Rowan tossed the knight an impish grin. “Rabbit stew.”
“I hope you choke on it,” Callum responded.
