She promptly pulled her blade away. If she hadn’t, with their position, their nearness, Sander would’ve landed on the point. Even with a dull sparring sword, it would ache and bruise. In a true battle, with the position, it would’ve run him through.
But . . . possibly not intentionally.
Mists still hovered at my brother’s back. Skadi spun on her heel, racing around him, and reached into her darkness. From the cloud of her affinity, she pulled the black steel blade free.
Breaths heavy, Sander opened his arms. “See! How the hells do you win when she can pluck your damn blades from your hand?”
“Was that how it happened?” I hadn’t meant to shout the question. But when gazes fell on me, I pressed again. “Was that what happened?”
“Not exactly.” Sander wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “But close. I told you brother, I recalled an apology whispered in my ear.”
“I’ve offered to show you, son,” my mother called from across the field.
I refused to watch the memory. To watch Sander nearly bleed out once before was one time too many. I had no plans to relive the experience. My folk were never one to push, but my mother had tried to show me the memory many times once I announced I’d been granted permission from Eldirard.
Skadi gathered the two swords, avoiding my attention.
“Is that how it went?” My voice was edged in grit.
“It was my fault your brother was wounded. Don’t mistake it for anything else.”
“Was it intentional?”
Skadi rubbed a hand on the back of her neck. “I wanted to remove the threat—the blade—but . . . I didn’t intend for him to fall into the knife. You all kept coming after that. I felt I had no choice but to use my affinity against you.”
Her darkness had stolen my blade much the same as she’d done just now. Hells, she had even swallowed Aleksi whole, tossing him across the palace room. But she never tried to kill us. It was as she said, more like she wanted to disarm us.
Sander’s wound was a damn accident?
Her hands were forced to fight. Skadi feared her own magic, she never wished to use it for cruelty, and she hadn’t wanted to kill any of us even though we invaded her palace.
Heat from desire for more of her dug deeper.
I cleared my throat and took hold of her hand, curling her slender fingers around the hilt. “I believe I demanded a rematch as well, Wife.”
Dorsan cleared his throat. “Forgive me, My Lord. It ought to be known, the princess should not engage her affinity much more in aggressive acts such as sparring and battle.”
A little of Skadi’s starlight gleam left her eyes. “He’s probably right.”
“Why?”
“You’ve seen why,” she said, voice soft. “I cannot—should not—step into the dark too long when the intent is to overpower, cause pain, or defeat another. I grow cold and become . . .”
I lifted her chin with my thumb. “Become what?”
She hesitated. “Heartless. A bit of a monster.”
Only when her power was questioned did the fire douse in her gaze. While using it, with Sander practically boasting about her ability, Skadi damn near beamed with pride.
I brushed my mouth against her ear. “Then be monstrous, Wife.”
Skadi drew in a sharp breath.
“No one is intending to hurt anyone today,” I went on, “other than your feelings, perhaps. I plan to best you, so prepare to weep in your defeat.”
Soon enough, her lips parted in a grin. “I hope you’ve said your farewells, Husband.”
“Farewells?”
