Darting swiftly to the closest tree, he crossed his arms and leaned against the trunk, waiting to see what she would do next. Isla stumbled before catching herself, her tunic slipping ever so slightly down her shoulder. Rynn looked away but could not stop the image of her silhouette against a dark sky from hurtling across his mind. Crimson curls swaying with the steam rising from the waters of the hot spring, skin gleaming under the bright moonlight.
He shoved the memory away. “Giving up?” he called out casually.
She huffed as she brushed her hair away from her face. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Who said anything about being fair? You asked me to train with you.” He pushed off the tree trunk and stalked toward her. “If you come across someone you truly need to protect yourself against, I can guarantee they will not play fair.” He drew closer, his wind stirring at his fingers. “No matter how powerful they seem, everyone has a weakness. You have to find theirs and use it to your advantage.”
“And what is yours?” Isla asked, tilting her head back to meet his stare.
The edge of his lip quirked involuntarily.Thatwas not a question he was willing to answer. “I suppose you will have to find out.”
Rynn watched with slight amusement as Isla grasped the hilt of the dagger in her backhand and swung in an arc from the right side of her body. He let her get a bit closer this time, then lifted two fingers, pausing her arm midair before the tip reached his skin.
Suddenly, a different blade appeared at his jugular. Her other hand had grabbed the knife at his own belt and shoved it to his neck, stopping short of grazing him. He had not even seen her reach for it.
Her lips broke into a brilliant smile, and Rynn momentarily forgot where they were. Isla breathed heavily against his chest. He could almost feel her heart thumping through the wind resting between them.
“Perhaps your weakness is not paying attention to where your opponent’s hands are,” she said, her voice breathless and quiet.
“I do not think so,” he said before grabbing her wrist, twisting it between their bodies, and pressing against a spot on her palm to make her drop the knife. Without breaking eye contact, he plucked the other dagger that still struggled against his wall of air from her hand and released his wind, causing her arm to propel forward. “But that was a good trick.” He smiled and threw the knife blade-first into the grass, the hilt sticking out.
“Now, shall we focus on more hand-to-hand self-defense?” he asked, stepping away and breaking the alluring storm brewing in her proximity. Being so close to her was dangerous.
Being so close toanyonewas dangerous.
Slowly, she blinked then nodded. “What would happen if I had cut you?” she asked.
Rynn lifted an eyebrow. He had grown to somewhat enjoy her random questions; their unexpectedness amused him. “It would have stung.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, if I—or someone—actually stabbed you. Caused some sort of mortal wound. If you’re immortal, does that mean weapons can’t harm you?”
“They can still hurt us, but they cannot kill. We would simply heal. I have yet to find an injury we have not recovered from.” Aidan in particular had a morbid fascination with seeing how close he could get to mortality.
“So, if someone…cut off your head? Would you heal from that?” Isla pressed.
A surprised snort left his throat. What he would give to see the way her mind worked. “That was a rather violent example to jump to. Since that has not happened to any of us yet, I cannot say. I hopeyoudon’t intend to cut off my head, Isla.”
Almost imperceptibly, she shivered at her name on his tongue. “Of course not. I’m just asking,” she mumbled, looking at his mouth before turning away.
Rynn was about to suggest again that they practice without weapons when his wind rustled urgently against him, seeking his attention. He stiffened and jerked his head to the right, his power searching the area around them until it brushed up against three approaching beings.
It was about time.He was surprised it had taken them this long.
He had been preparing for the moment he would see his fellow elementals again, bolstering his tolerance and warding off the impatience he was sure would flare in their presence. It was not that he did notwantto see them; he had simply begun to feel something in the last week of being conscious that he was not used to. An unfamiliar emotion he needed more time to analyze before being thrown back into the fray of his kindred spirits, especially after what he had done on Iona. It was a swirling, writhing stone in his gut, tightening and expanding of its own volition—a dark wave bubbling up and rolling over him without warning.
It was a nuisance, this guilt.
“What’s wrong?” Isla asked.
He closed his eyes and put a finger to his lips. “I can hear something.”
“I don’t hear anything,” she said after a moment.
“It’s not close. It’s on the other side of the mountain.” He paused and moved toward the path that led back to his cave. “The other elementals. They are here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Jade
