We backed away from the racks onto the field.
Kael struck hard and with purpose. Swift, deliberate, and unseen.
The edge of his practice blade came down on mine. My shoulders throbbed from the attack, but I spun out. Kael struck again; I parried. He jabbed; I sliced. When he ducked, I attempted to knock him off-balance. With his elbow he slammed me between the shoulders, but I kicked at his ankle, causing him to stumble.
I hooked an arm around Kael’s neck and managed to get him to his knees. My weight was not enough to drag him down completely, and he was actively pushing me away.
From the edge of the field more than one Stav had stopped to watch. Emi shouted her horror and disgust on my form, then would switch to her annoyance with Kael.
“Darkwin, are you Stav or not? Why are you still on the ground?” She shook her head.
I grunted and tugged, trying to get Kael to fall. He managedto hook his arm under my knees and flipped me onto my back. I wheezed when the breath fled from my chest. When I opened my eyes, cool steel was leveled against my neck.
I froze.
Roark stood over me, chest bare from the waist up. Planes of hard muscle from his shoulders to the sharp carve of his hips that disappeared beneath his low-slung trousers added a touch of heat to my pulse.
Kael laughed and backed away. “If you meet ravagers or Skul Drek, Ly, they’ll come at you from all sides.”
You closed your eyes. Roark crouched, his hand over my face.Never close your eyes in a fight.
Roark leaned closer, his fingers moved deftly against my cheek, a sign the Sentry was whispering.Fight me.
His silent words burned through me like liquid fire. I swallowed and rolled onto my side, hurrying to my feet.
A dark gleam filled Roark’s eyes. He spun a short blade in his grip.
I kept low, circling the Sentry. Kael stood beside Emi. More Stav took positions to watch. Even a few courtiers and servants preparing the courtyards for the arrival of the Myrdan royals stopped to observe.
You have enemies you do not see. Prove you can defend yourself. Roark gestured with sharpness, like a command. Like he would not accept anything less.
Then he lunged.
Like Kael, Roark moved with the glide of a shadow. His strikes came before I caught up to the previous move. I fought to gain the offensive, but kept backstepping, blocking every strike in a frenzy.
I managed to spin out and get behind him, but Roark took a long stride and found a position behind me before I had time toturn around. He was a force and I could not follow him. He swung at me, and I stumbled, falling backward to the ground.
Roark gave me no time to breathe before he made a cage with his arms and legs over the top of me, my own damn dagger in his control at my throat.
Dark hair pinned to his brow from a thin layer of sweat. His body was carved in divots of muscle and pressed too close to mine. The bastard only made it worse when he leaned his mouth over my lips, one hand in my sights. Heat from his bare skin burned against my chest.
You are dead.
His fingers brushed below my jaw, and I had to fight the horrid urge to lean into his touch. “Does it please you?”
A snide kind of smirk split over his mouth.Depends on the time of day.
“It is a shared feeling.”
He leaned in ever closer. One slight lift of my head and my lips would brush his. Roark shifted. His chest ran over my breasts, forcing my teeth to clench to bite back a moan.
Your grip on that blade is the worst I’ve ever seen.
I huffed in annoyance. “Get off me, Sentry. I tire of looking at you.”
Doubtful.
“Bastard.”
