Her heart rate picks up, and I feel warmth spread through her chest. She’s pleased by my words, maybe even touched. She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her emotions. She’s never had anyone appreciate her body this way, never had someone understand the work she’s put into it.
“Okay,”I say gently.“You can come down now.”
She lowers herself to the floor and rolls onto her back. Her breathing is still steady and she’s not tired at all. In fact, she’s energized. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through her.
“What’s next?”she asks eagerly.
I can feel her enthusiasm through our connection, and it makes something warm spread through me. She wants more. She wants to see what we can do together. She’s not afraid anymore. She’s not bracing herself or closing her eyes, she’s excited to be merged with me, excited to see our potential.
“Do you want me to show you some moves?”
“Hell yes!”
Chapter Twelve
Wren
I move through the exercises. Now that I’m not fighting Zeth anymore, his strength flows through me like it was always meant to be there. Every movement feels effortless and powerful, like I could take on anyone and win. I’ve never felt this way before. My body should be screaming after this much exertion, but there’s nothing. Just smooth, controlled power coursing through every muscle and every bone.
It’s almost superhuman, which makes sense since he is supernatural and currently living inside me. The exhilaration builds in my chest until I can barely contain it. This is what it means to have a symbiote merged with you. I understand why people seek it out.
“Want to try some defensive combinations?”Zeth asks in my head.
“Yes. Show me.”
He moves me through strike sequences, and my fists cut through the air with precision I’ve never had before. Jab, cross, hook – combinations I’ve practiced thousands of times, but now they’re sharper, faster, and perfect. He guides me through slips and rolls, defensive movements flowing seamlessly into counters. I bob and weave, then explode upward with an uppercut that would break someone’s jaw. My body pivots, throws an elbow strike, and follows with a knee to an imaginary opponent’s ribs. Everything connects perfectly. There’s no wasted motion and no hesitation.
“Are you okay?”he checks in.“Want to keep going?”
“I’m fine,”I tell him.“Show me more.”
He takes me through close quarters combat next. Elbow strikes, forearm blocks, and clinch work that would let me control someone bigger and stronger.
“Still good?”he asks.
“Yes. Don’t stop.”
As we move, I realize his fighting style is different from mine. I know Krav Maga and Jiu-Jitsu because I’ve trained hard for years in both. But Zeth fights like someone who’s combined everything into something uniquely his own. He fights like someone who knows he can end things quickly and has never doubted his physical superiority. When he makes me practice a grab, even just mimicking the motion, I can feel the potential force behind it. He could crush bone, tear muscle, and break joints without effort.
That confidence translates through every strike and hold, and it makes me realize how much I second-guess myself in fights, how I compensate for being smaller and for being a woman in a male-dominated field. He has no such hesitation, only pure, controlled violence when needed.
He transitions me into ground fighting sequences. I sprawl to defend an imaginary takedown, then immediately spin to take the back position. From there, my arm sinks into the perfect choke hold, positioned exactly right across the throat. We release, scramble up, and defend against another rush. Footwork patterns follow – lateral movement, angling off, countering with a straight punch that comes from my hip. Everything flows like a choreographed dance, but it’s not choreography. It’s real technique and skill, and my body moves in ways it never has before.
It feels natural, though, like this is what I was always capable of doing. I just needed him to unlock it.
Sweat pours down my face and soaks through my shirt, but I’m not tired, just heated, energized, and alive in a way I’ve never experienced.
After a particularly complex combination, Zeth pauses.
“How are you feeling? Need to stop?”
I’m breathing hard, but not from exhaustion.
“I’m good,”I tell him.“Really good.”
“We should probably stop,”he says.“You’ve been at this for over an hour.”
I glance at the clock. It felt like fifteen minutes, but he’s right.
