“Never put your back to your opponent, witch.” Jace stalks around the perimeter of the ring with scrutinizing eyes. “How are you going to get out of this one?”
I reach for my fire, casting it toward my arms. Not enough to do any serious damage. Just a quick sting. Zadyn sucks in a breath through his teeth, releasing me.
“No magic. Reset,” Jace says.
“Why no magic? If this was a real fight, I would be using my magic—I’d use whatever was at my disposal,” I protest, rolling my wrist.
“If this was a real fight, your magic could beeasily depleted, and you would need to rely on your physical faculties alone. So like I said. Reset.”
Muttering a few colorful nicknames for him beneath my breath, I take a lap around the ring before meeting Zadyn in the center.
“You got this. Just imagine I’m Kylian. You hate me. You want me dead. Now let me have it.” He offers me a smirk that, combined with his half-naked body, is completely mind-boggling. I soften my knees and bounce on my toes a few times, winding up for a punch.
“Stop.” Jace’s voice shatters my focus. I turn to see him walking up behind me.
“Why—”
He takes my hips with a firm grip, and I lose my train of thought. His foot knocks against mine, forcing me to widen my stance. “Legs further apart.”
I do as he says without question.
“You’re not twisting when you punch. Engage your core, and twist from here, like I taught you.” His fingers curl into my sides, angling me toward Zadyn—steering me with his hands.
Zadyn holds up both palms, creating a target for me.
Jace guides my hips again as I throw another punch, this one with more power and better control. He nods in encouragement.
“Again, witch. Jab and cross.”
I’m far too aware of his hands on me, of his breath hot on my ear, of his dark, looming presence demanding attention. Demanding respect. Part of me is desperate to sink back into him, just for one second.
With him at my back, breathing down my neck, and Zadyn in front of me, it’s hard to focus on anything other than keeping the drool safely secured inside my mouth. The heat of their eyes, of their bodies, so close to mine—my senses are in overdrive, my mind wandering to thoughts that are so not appropriate for the training ring. Not appropriate period exclamation point the end.
Head out of the gutter, you animal.
As if reading my thoughts, Jace chuckles, his hand sliding across my low back as he shoves me in Zadyn’s direction.
I continue the combination—jab cross, jab cross—as Zadyn starts to move around. I pursue him, falling into a rhythm as we track our footprints across the dirt ring.
“Now give her something to work with,” Jace calls, sounding slightly less annoyed.
Zadyn attacks at full speed. I would be impressed if I weren’t so focused on dodging his blows. I barely duck in time to avoid his shin whacking me in the head. Gasping, I slip around him, my hand forming a blade to strike him in the back. His chiseled arm swings around like a scythe. I duck again—popping up in front of him this time to grip his broad shoulders and sink my knee into his ribs. He grunts, hunching over, but then his arms form a vice around my back and waist.
What is he doing?
A scream rips through me as he flips me upside down, throwing my feet over my head. I land on wobbly legs, without a stitch of grace or balance. Before I can fall, he catches my shirt and rips me backward. I slam into him.
His heart pounds against my back—a loud, steady drumbeat. I’m plastered to his chest, one hand restraining my wrists, the other locked around my throat. I crane my neck to look up at him, watching as his eyes dilate, focused on my mouth. He wets his lips, and I feel an ache swelling deep in my core. Our faces are so close I can feel his ragged breaths skittering across my mouth?—
Jace claps his hands, and Zadyn unlocks his grip on me.
“That’s enough for today.”
“Are you okay?” Zadyn asks, his voice rough. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?
I shake my head, still too breathless to speak and afraid of what might fall out if I even attempt to.
* Cue:Bike Dreamby Rostam
