This is a sick and twisted game to him.
If you engage, you’ve already lost.
Sin cocks his head, appraising me. “Well, if you’re going to act all meek and domesticated, maybe I should make you wear a collar.”
My eye twitches.
“I’ll make sure to add ‘property of Sin’ on your pet tag,” he adds.
I launch myself at him.
I don’t care that he’s double my size or that he clearly wants me to attack him and that by doing so, I’m playing right into his hands.
I just want to win.
Just this once, I need to be the one who comes out on top. Not for an audience. Not to prove to Sin that I’m not a liability.
This is for me.
Before today, it wasn’t an issue that Sin always kicked my ass in the arena. But now we’ve crossed a line. One that gives him even more power over me even outside of our training.
Something has to give. He doesn’t get to hold all the power.
So, I’m going to win.
Sin wants me angry and fighting, and he’s succeeded. But I am fighting for so much more.
Cassandra’s voice echoes in my mind, ordering me to move one way or another. ‘Dive left. Punch him in the kidney. Roll over, feign right.’
But Sin always moves out of the way, a fraction before I can touch him, not bothering to land a hit on me.
I scream in frustration, and Sin tsks, “You’re slow. Cassandra’s memories might show you how to fight, but it’s nothing if you can’t move your ass.”
Growling, I step back, breathing heavily.
He’s right. I might be slower, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be smarter.
‘Make use of any weakness you find in your enemy.’Cassandra’s memory rings out. And it takes less than a heartbeat to know what Sin’s weakness is.
It’s me.
The mortal he’s partnered with and thinks he needs for some ridiculous prophecy.
I’m breakable. Even now, I’ve been careful to only attack him with my upper body to avoid adding any strain on my stitches.
The same stitches Sin has been keeping a close eye on.
He cares, and I’m more than ready to abuse that realization.
Sin might be the master of riling me to the point of fury, but he has no idea the lengths I will go to never feel powerless again.
I charge him again, raising my fist. Only instead of ever throwing the punch, I wait until the last possible second before throwing myself to the ground, the whole of my weight coming down on my injured leg.
A second is all I need.
Sin’s eyes widen in concern, and I kick my leg out, tripping him.
We connect, and Sin goes down hard, falling backwards. He’s barely hit the ground, and I’m on him, shoving my forearm into his neck.
