I gritted my teeth, adjusting my stance. I shifted, feinting to the left before slicing toward his shoulder. He evaded me. With a small push, he shoved me off balance and I stumbled, catching myself before I hit the ground.
Kairos tsked. “Your footwork is sloppy.”
“You’re not fighting in a dress.”
“Then lose it.”
“You wish.”
I stabbed. He dodged. I brought my knee up, aiming for his groin.
He caught my knee. “Better.”
He released me, and I switched the blade to my other hand. Utterly useless. I’d never fought with a blade before. I had no chance whatsoever against him. Stronger, faster, and hundreds of years of experience.
I wiped my hand and transferred the dagger. Swinging in a wide arc, I aimed for his shoulder.
He seized my wrist. “You’re not even trying.”
“I don’t know how!”
“Proves my point.”
I wrenched myself free and slashed at him.
He grabbed me and jerked me into his arms. I slammedinto the hard line of his body. The dagger was in my hand, but it didn’t matter—he had me pinned tight.
“What now?” he purred.
I twisted, struggling. One arm banded around my waist, anchoring me against him, while the other slid up over my ribs, to the thundering beat of my heart.
Then higher.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“You’ve got a blade in your hand. Use it.”
I gripped the hilt tighter, but my arm wouldn’t move.
“What’s it going to be?” he murmured. “Drive it home, or admit you can’t do this?”
“I hate you.”
His grip loosened slightly. “You’re still not using the blade.”
I tried to twist, throwing my weight. He adjusted easily, shaking with laughter. I thrashed harder, accomplishing nothing except pressing myself more firmly against him. Finally, I sagged against him.
“Giving up already?” he taunted.
I panted. “You’re too strong.”
“If you can’t get through me, you don’t stand a chance in the Mirenwilde.”
His palm drifted to my stomach, settling there.
A dark thrill swooped low in my belly, making my thighs clench.
No, not this.
