Instead of focusing on my anger at the sight of them, I tried to figure out why I felt that way when, with Mika, it was a much easier transition. We all slipped into our roles easily and made this unstoppable foursome.
As I went through it in my head, I asked myself what was so different from back then to now? The most obvious one was that the three of us were not friends, but now that statement felt false. Ever since we started to all chase after Emerald, that old friendship rose from the ashes, pinch by ashy pinch.
I used to want to kill them, so consumed with my anger at them for blaming me for Mika’s disappearance that I thought that was the only answer for us. When I really couldn’t stomach that, I figured I just needed to ignore them, pretend they didn’t exist, and solidify them as people from my past. I thought I had done it too. Then Emerald came.
She caught all of our eyes, which forced them to be in my face all the time. Old feelings of brotherhood and betrayal ran deep. When we saved those kids together, I remembered how good it felt to be around them. Then Emerald forced us to work together, forced us to find common ground… And I didn’t hate it.
At that point, I was still mad at her and didn’t think that her relationship between the two of them would grow, but it did. By the time I caught up, they were so into her they wouldn’t give her up just because I threatened them. Then we made another pact, and it felt like the good old days, but that was a lie because we weren’t those carefree boys anymore.
If they think I didn’t see the pain and scars in their eyes, then they were crazy. I don’t know what they went through, but I know that darkness has touched us all, some more than others, but the touch was still there. Then there’s Emerald, the being that calls darkness to her like an old lover, the three of us not able to help but answer the call.
Maybe that’s why it wasn’t the same.
I looked back over at them. Yes, it wasn’t the same feeling, even if it was the same situation. This time, I felt like an outsider and I hated it. It pissed me off even more when I felt like I was the one that got to her first. She was mine… Then she rocked me with who she was and I just lost it, consumed with my anger.
I could torture myself by thinking of all the what ifs, but I didn’t want to do that anymore. My heart was tired of being frustrated. Tired of being hurt. I wanted to be more, better, for her.
I took a deep breath and looked back at them.Nope! Still angry about it.I guess I’m not really ready for all that just yet.
I tore my eyes away and turned around, gripping the throwing knife like a lifeline, a reminder. I ran the blade along my lips. The coolness of the steel calms my body in familiarity. I could almost pretend it was her using it on me again, marking me, being with only me.
I heard Zayden murmur something in his sleep, and it forced me back to reality. I looked at the knife with a new purpose. I needed to throw this thing at the tree before I did something I regretted and she hated me forever.
I walked a few paces away before I turned back to the tree and got ready to get better at throwing, to have an outlet for this anger.
After about ten minutes, I wanted to give up. That stupid little kid knife would not go into the tree even if I walked up and stuck it myself. The damn thing kept not going where I asked or falling short of the distance, no matter how hard I threw it. I think I finally found the one thing that I can’t practice to death to master.
Instincts told me to check on them again and when I did I found the space between Zayden and Rykon empty. Panic settled in and I spun around, looking for her. Did the damn shadow fae come, and I didn’t notice because of the stupid knives?
“Need some help?” Her voice was soft yet alert as it came from right next to me. I turned and looked down. How the flying fuck did she do that?
I looked at the tree, two knives on the floor, none in my target. “I think I’m a lost cause.” I admitted, hating it because I was a perfectionist, but happy that I finally had someone to talk to about it.
She gave me one of her rare smiles, the ones that made me want to sever the head of the king myself if it made her smile like that again. She looked at the knife, then back to me, “I think you could do it with a few pointers… If you’re open to it?”
My veins rushed with blood in excitement, but all I said as I shrugged was, “Sure.”
She moved slowly behind me, her hands laying softly on my arms as she positioned me back to the tree. I suppressed a shudder that wanted to ratchet up my spine, so pleased by her touching me in such a way. Well, this was going to be hard. I looked down for a second and confirmed that yes, hard was the right choice of words.
She surprised me when she kicked at my stance, throwing me off for a second before I settled my feet where she wanted. She then grabbed my hips and turned them, my butt on her stomach and my dick was getting really excited.
I tried to shift around, but she tsk’ed at me and told me to stay still, so I did. I just hoped she wouldn’t come to my front. That would be a little embarrassing.
Her hands balanced on my shoulders behind me as she got on her tippy toes and tried to see the angle and height I was at for aim. Her breath was on my neck and her breasts brushed against my back. The taste of copper filled my mouth as I clamped my teeth down on my lips to suppress the moan working its way out of my mouth.
The combination of my rapid pulse beating against my skin, my blood racing and my dick hard like these mountains caused my thoughts to drift. To wonder if she would be up for me dragging her across the tree line, shoving her against a tree, ripping off her clothes to show her just how my mouth could work that body up as much as she has worked mine.
We could even fight over it. Maybe make a game where whoever bleeds first has to take their clothes off. Then I could prove to her how meant to be we are. How our minds, hearts and souls were similar in our fascination with blood. It was hard to be an assassin and not find your mind thinking about that life liquid. What it means to someone, how it marks your skin red on the outside. How it feels to have it gushing through your clenched hands.
As soon as I thought about that, the memory of her sucking me off in the cave, my blood coating her lips as she stained it red, heated my blood to the point of boiling over. The knowledge that she was just as into it as me was intoxicating and alluring. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to lick her blood up and down her body, filling my mouth as I took a piece of her life source. I was about to say fuck it, cut myself with the knife, smear it on her bottom lip and back up into the forest, telling her to come with me.
“So, the trick of throwing knives is the hold on the knife. For you, I would suggest the thumb hold.” Her voice threw me off since I was about to go in an entirely different direction, but this was good, too. I needed the lesson. I just needed to figure out how to get rid of the raging boner I was sporting. I thought about my father and what he would say to me if he learned I was on this trip instead of the fake hit I was supposed to be on. Fear flooded my senses and my boner was sinking like a ship on a stormy sea. Now I can pay attention.
She pulled out one of her other knives in her thigh holster, having a tight grip on the blade end of the knife, thumb on the flat side. “The farther away the target, the higher on the knife you need to hold it.” She looked at where the tree was and adjusted up the knife. “Everything is controlled with the thumb in this hold. So, once you cock back and throw it, wherever your thumb is pointing is where it will land.” Her eyes barely flashed a look at the target before she threw her knife and it hit dead center, sticking straight out of the tree.
My knee jerk reaction was to be jealous of her, but I was also impressed. I looked down at the knife in my hand before she called out. “That knife is a little smaller than you should have for a set of your own. Your hands are much bigger than mine, but once we get back, having a blacksmith make your own balanced set shouldn’t be a big deal.”
Blood was rushing to my dick again at her showing me even the smallest bit of praise. I’m sure that was going to be a problem. Almost like my dick had a mind of its own, or it could be the solution. We could get praised for doing a lot of dirty things with our warrior queen. I told her that was a great idea and I tried to throw the first knife.
