He sucks in a surprised breath, and I have a single, blissful moment of satisfaction.
Until he rips the dagger from my hand, throwing it after my sword.
I duck, roll, sprint.
His breath is hot on the back of my neck, and he grabs my tunic, hauling me close. I slam my head backward, but he’s too tall, and my skull hits his hard chest.
Distract him.
Sliding my hand down, I push the outside of my wrist against the decorative blade on his hip. The blade slices into me, the pain sharp and immediate.
Rorrik’s hold loosens, and he sucks in a breath at the sudden scent of blood. When he turns my body to the side to investigate the scent, I trip him.
Knife, knife, knife.
Rorrik’s up and standing in a blink, but I pull another silver knife from the sheath in my left boot.
“Clever girl.” A deranged light enters his eyes. He’s havingfun.
And why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even need to touch his power to kill me.
“I’ll give you one thing, you fight smart. Did you always think three steps ahead? Or is it something you had to learn here, where you’re so outmatched?”
The words are casual, but he seems genuinely curious.
“You want to know? Walk away and we can chat about it some other time.”
He tuts. “I’m the reason you’re still breathing. You should be kissing my feet.”
I blink, and Rorrik slaps my blade from my hand, then casually reaches out and shoves me.
I fly through the air and hit the ground. For the first time, I understand how much Tiernon was holding back when he trained me. Vampires are unspeakably strong and fast, and Rorrik is faster than most.
With a grunt, I make it to my knees, but Rorrik follows me, slamming me onto my back. I don’t wait for him to get comfortable. I swing my arm, smashing my fist into his nose.
He instinctively raises one hand to his face and I attempt to shake him loose.
But it’s too late.
One of his hands encircles my wrists, holding my arms captive between us. The crowd cheers, but I watch Rorrik.
I don’t move. I barely breathe.
Slowly, he brushes one thumb along my throat. The movement is light, unhurried. He’s studying my skin intently, as if looking for something.
I arch my neck, and my eyes meet blazing blue.
Tiernon stands in the pulvinar. Ripping his helmet off, he mouths something to me.
Strong fingers dig into my face. “I don’t like to be ignored.” Rorrik’s eyes shine with an unhinged, victorious light.
He’s going to break my jaw. I wince, and his fingers immediately loosen. Someone calls out, and Rorrik slowly lifts his head. The crowd goes silent.
I take a shaky breath. “What are you doing? What is this?”
“This?” He continues to strum the length of my neck, switching to mindpathing.“This is a lesson. To you, to Tiernon, and to every person in here.”
“A lesson from who? You?”
