Only to find nothing. Not a whisper of Power was left to flare. It was just Astraia, just the abandoned warrior from the slums that greeted her.
“I’m waiting,” he taunted, holding her dagger steady.
She edged her face closer to him, until their breaths mingled, hot and humid in the forest air. Draven’s focus faltered for just a moment, letting his eyes fall to her lips.
It was all the time she needed.
Raising her right foot, she slammed the heel of her boot down onto the side of his foot. He groaned and lost his balance for a split second, removing the Celestial dagger from her chin.
Astraia took advantage of his unsteadiness, shoving her shackled wrists upward as hard as she could onto the wrist holding the blade. Forcefully, she twisted her arms, capturing his wrist between the chains and rolled his forearm in the opposite direction.
He grunted, grabbing for her chains with his free hand, but she would not relent. The dagger dropped from his hand, landing by their feet. She righted her hands, but Draven was already moving, grabbing her forearms and yanking her chest flush with his.
“You need to hurt me like you mean it,” he breathed in her face.
“You mean like this?” Astraia did not hesitate. Driving her knee upward, it met its mark, right between the bounty hunter’s legs.
His grip promptly loosened as he bent over, groaning as he struggled to remain upright.
A boot blurred beside her fingers, kicking the dagger across the grassy clearing. Cursing, she spun on her feet, rushing for the blade, but not before her feet were yanked out from under her. She fell to the forest floor with a thud, air whooshing from her lungs on impact.
Scrambling, she flung her weight to one side and managed to roll onto her back, but Draven was already upon her, pinning her to the ground. Her shackled wrists were thrown above her head, held down with calloused hands. A frustrated roar ripped from her throat as she attempted to wriggle her body free of his weight, but it was useless. A mountain would be easier to move.
“Yield.”
“You’ll have to break me first,” she spat, twisting beneath his hold.
“Fine.”
A snap echoed above her head, followed by sharp, stabbing pain shooting down her arm. She yelled, cursing him. He had broken her wrist.
“Now, do you yield?’
“You broke my Stars-damned wrist!” she bellowed, gritting her teeth from the pain. True pain. Pain that had been muted for years since Sacrifice chose her. It was excruciating.
“Others will not be as kind.” He narrowed his eyes on her, refusing to budge.
“I yield. Just get off me!” she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut, wrist throbbing.
He paused, then stood, releasing her arms and stepping over her. Cradling her wrist, Astraia clumsily rose. The manacles constricted her injured wrist as it began to swell, throbbing in sync with her heartbeat.
Whipping around to face the bounty hunter, her voice menacing, she said, “You had no right.”
“I had every right. You were sloppy and you failed, miserably,” he droned, arms crossed as a statue of indifference.
“Unbind me so that I can heal.” She marched over to him, wincing as each step pounded the earth and ricocheted through her broken bones. As soon as the manacles were off, she would beat the apathy off his pretty face.
“No.”
She halted, eyes wide, temper rising. “You said you would take them off the moment I asked you.”
“No, I said I would remove them when you proved to me you could defend yourself. I remain sorely unconvinced.” His eyebrow quirked, eyeing the wrist she held close to her chest.
“And how, pray tell, do I convince you with a broken wrist?” Malice dripped from every syllable as she spoke.
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her waist and spun her around, back to him. Despite her resentment toward him for breaking her bones, a thrill ran up her spine at his touch, making her stomach flip. Her eyes widened at the sensation, and she swallowed hard.
“You need to unbalance your opponent. Catch them off guard. Eyes, nose, ears, any way to disrupt their senses is easiest, but in this position…” He slid a hand down her unbroken left arm, angling her elbow and pushing it back into his side. “I would go for the spleen. Drive your elbow backward.”
