“Yes.” I breathe and melt into him.
“Good.” He ropes my hair around his fist and bites my shoulder hard enough to sting but not break the skin. “You fought well. My blood has never run so high.”
I lick my lips, suddenly parched for more than water. Turning, I look up at him.
He grips my hair harder, pulling my head back and pressing me tightly against him. “You need discipline.”
“Maybe you can help me with that?”
“Absolutely.” He runs his other hand down to my ass and squeezes. Hard.
I bite my lip to stifle a moan.
Someone clears their throat. “Omega, we need to talk.” It’s Master Harlan.
I forgot all about him. Shit.
Ceredes hesitates, and for just a moment I think he might ignore Master Harlan, toss me to the mat, and give me every hard inch I can feel against my stomach. But then he takes a deep breath. Kyte and Jeren do, too. They’re standing right behind me, their hungry thoughts sending a current of desire spiraling through my mind.
Ceredes sets me away from him. “Shake it off,” he growls, but I can’t tell if he’s saying it to me or himself.
Despite the need in my veins, I feel lighter, freer. The pressure is gone … for now.
Kyte takes my elbow and walks me around Ceredes to Master Harlan. “We were discussing the duel, I believe.” Kyte’s tone is suave as ever, but I don’t miss the heat in him. I want to taste it.
“Stop thinking those thoughts.” His plea is almost a groan inside my head.
Master Harlan takes a deep breath as if he’s thinking about scolding me, but then he shakes his head. “A duel is not what we need right now. It’s not whatyouneed right now. I promised Councilor Ellarian I would watch out for all of you, and especially you.” He points at me.
“My mother trusts him. Hm.” Kyte seems surprised.
“Great, but I don’t like him very much,” I clap back.
“If the duel is a bad idea, then tell Ilwen to take it back.”
“That’s not possible.” Master Harlan grits his teeth. He doesn’t like the duel any more than I do.
“Then what do you want me to do about it?” I throw up my hands.
“Lose.”
“What?” all four of us yell at once.
17
Kyte
She’s finally asleep, her mind dragging her down into a rainbow swamp of fanciful dreams. Some of the things her subconscious conjures are beyond anything I’ve ever seen.
“What are we going to do?” Jeren whispers from his spot along her other side.
“Forcing her to lose is bullshit, but if it’s necessary ...” Ceredes doesn’t trust his voice in the quiet. Not when she’s dreaming about a narwhal riding on a helicopter. “I hate that. You know how badly I hate it.” He goes silent and brooding.
I can’t imagine how torn he is. Bellatians are trained from an early age to win at all costs, to draw first blood, to always strike an opponent with honor, but strike so hard they never rise again.
“I don’t like it. The circle makes her powerful. Why can’t she use that power in the ring?” Jeren’s dark eyes glint in the low light.
“The council thinks it would cause a panic.” I don’t know if I agree with that reasoning, but it doesn’t matter. What the council says goes if we want to stay a part of the fleet. “They’re afraid.” I settle down beside her and listen to her soft breaths.
