Then I feel his weight settle on my back. “Keep to your feet, foolish Omega.”
I try to buck him, but he presses down with all his weight until I feel my ribs squeeze tight. “I could hurt you.”
“Do it.” He runs his teeth along my ear, and I shiver all over. “Or I’ll punish you.”
I take another sip from my imaginary power latte and surge up, throwing him off my back as I spring to my feet and throw up a barrier around myself.
His back barely touches the mat before he’s prowling outside my sphere. “Now who’s cheating?”
I shrug. “All’s fair in love and war.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“You should read more books.” I put my hands on my hips.
He licks his lips. “You can’t hide in a sphere during the duel.”
My barrier falters. “That’s still happening?”
“Bartanz wants things to continue like normal, and we’ve agreed to go along to some extent, so yes, you’ll be meeting Ilwen in the dueling circle at the end of the week.”
“No.” I rub my temples. “I can’t do that and then Kyte’s mother’s funeral and then what? We keep on with this charade that the Sentients aren’t trying to kidnap me and destroy the fleet? I feel like we aren’t keeping our eye on the ball. We’re letting Bartanz lead us deeper into danger, and this stupid duel is just another distraction.”
Ceredes breaks through my barrier and scoops me up, then mimics breaking my back over his knee. “Your focus is gone.” He kisses my forehead. “But you did well managing your power. Controlling it. You just have to stay aware of it, wield it. Don’t let it wield you.”
“That’s great and all, muscly Yoda, but I’m not down for this duel. There’s all this other stuff going on, and now I have to lose to that pink idiot?” I go limp in his arms and make an immature groaning sound.
“We can all run away and fight the Sentients on our own. Forego the duel,” he suggests.
“I should say that sounds like the worse option, but it doesn’t. I’d much rather try and win a fight than try and lose one. But I suppose fighting the Sentients carries that whole ‘risk of death’ baggage. Wait, does anyone ever die in the dueling ring?”
He looks up, as if trying to remember. “Very few.”
“Very few?” I gape then close my eyes. “I remember your time spent dueling on your home planet.”
He bends his knees and sits on the floor with me still in his arms. “I visited the ring many times.”
“I’m thinking of the first time. When your father took you to the dueling ring when you were issued a challenge by the noble’s son. Do you remember?”
“Yes.” His voice softens to a finer gravel. “I remember.”
I can see him, smaller than he is now, though still big compared to an average human male. But compared to his opponent? He was still a child. “You were scared. He was huge, had already bested so many others. But he wanted to defeat you, because he’d heard about you. And your father could’ve refused the challenge because you were so young, but he didn’t.”
“Yes.” He strokes my side, his thumb drawing lazy circles on my ribs.
I can smell the salt in the air from the blocks set up around the ring, a place for competitors to dry their sweaty or bloody hands. The crowds scattered around with many more watching via screens. The tang of fear and anger.
“He wanted to defeat my family line, to add to his own family’s honors. It wasn’t personal.”
I reach up and stroke his cheek. “But you were so young.”
“I said it wasn’t personal.” He kisses my forehead. “That doesn’t mean it was fair.”
“He almost killed you.” I shiver as I feel the phantom shard of an energy sword through his gut.
“Almost.” His deep blue eyes hold mine.
“But you fought. And you never stopped trying, not until he lay at your feet. That moment, the way you ached, not from the physical pain, but because your parents sent you to the ring. I take his hand and press it over my heart. “I can still feel it. In here.”
