The way he said it—so rational, so composed—infuriated me morethan if he’d shouted. He was sorry, but notwrong. Sorry, but notrepentant.
I needed to get out of this open space, out from under the curious eyes of the shifters around us.
“I can’t do this in here.”
“We could spar in the dome,” he said easily, as if we were discussing the weather. “It’s usually empty this time of day. And I don’t want the others to see you fight before the Trials.”
“I doubt they’ll need to see me fight to guess how little chance I have,” I said.
He didn’t argue. Just smiled faintly, that maddeningly confident curve of his lips. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’d rather keep your particular kind of chaos as a surprise.”
“Maybe I’ll surprise you one day,” I snapped, because he seemed so sure of everything about me.
As we moved into the life dome, the light changed. The air smelled faintly of stone and something floral. The ceiling above us glowed with the soft, shifting light of the stars. Rees settled down at the door to the dome, as if he were guarding it.
“How do I escape when someone has me pinned?” I demanded as I faced Fieran.
He was pushing his sleeves up his corded forearms. There were more tattoos on his arms that I was not remotely interested in cataloguing. “Is that where you want to start?”
Did I want to begin with his body pinning me down? Not at all. Just the thought made the anger churning through my body heat into slightly different tension.
“Yes.”
He nodded and then, without hesitation, he grabbed my waist. His strong hands held me up for a split second as his heel pressed mine, sweeping my legs. He dropped me on the ground effortlessly. My shoulder blades and legs hit at the same time so I was shocked, breathless, but not hurt.
Then he was on top of me, his knees on either side of my thighs, his body folding over mine to pin me.
“Once you go to the ground, you want to avoid being pinned.” Heheld his weight off me so that he didn’t hurt me, but when I tried to test my way out, there was no escaping his muscular, corded body.
His hips pressed mine; his solid arm was a careful bar across my chest, just above my breasts; his other arm held him lifted slightly off me. His breath smelled like cinnamon and cloves.
I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see his stupidly handsome face. Instead, I focused on his words. “If I am pinned? It seems pretty likely I’ll fold after a punch or two and will be too stunned to avoid getting pinned.”
“Practice will help. You’ll recover faster from the shock. Muscle memory will get you moving before your mind catches up.”
I tried to believe him.
His lips hovered so near over mine. “What could you do from here if you wanted to hurt me?”
That hypotheticalifwas like a crumbling dam holding back the truth of how much Ididwant to hurt him.
I opened my eyes and looked around. There wasn’t much around us. If I could get a handful of dust to throw into his eyes or something else to distract him…
As if he knew just what I was thinking, he pinned my wrist under his bracing hand, his fingers wrapping over my skin. His touch felt hot and branding. His face was so close to mine, and his scent was overwhelming me.
“I’d need to distract you before I had a chance,” I whispered, my words barely audible.
He ducked his head slightly, turning his ear toward me. “What was that?”
I bit his earlobe.
Hard enough to draw blood, which was suddenly coppery-slick over my lips.
He let out a stunned gasp but didn’t pull away. He was too clever. Instead, he pressed the side of his head into mine, pressing painfully against my nose.
The two of us were in a battle of wills for a split second and then released each other at the same time. I scrambled to my feet as he sat back, pressing one hand to his bleeding ear.
“Savage,” he said, though he seemed pleased. “What if you have an opponent who isn’t as easily distracted by you?”
