The wind wailed, churning around her, the ground humming beneath his feet. His grin widened as she dodged his blow, rolling across the ground and back onto her feet with swift agility.
“The magic in your blood,” Rune mused. “I can feel it waking.”
Alora’s steps jerked in surprise, confusion flickering across her face. Her thoughts flitted across his mind.Ignore his distractions.
She scowled. “I don’t need magic to beat you!”
Steel met steel. He moved like water, fluid, unhurried, while she struck like fire, furious and violent. Their blades met again and again, the rhythm so sharp it bordered on music. She ducked beneath his swing, catching his next attack. He pivoted, close enough for her breath to brush his skin.
“You are fast,” he said, voice rough with something unspoken. “Almost enough to keep up with a lower rank demon.”
Every motion was a contradiction. Attack and retreat. Order and chaos. Her heart thundered as she struggled to land a hit past his defenses, and he couldfeel it.
“Are you cross with me, little bird?” Rune taunted, parrying her next strike. “Worried you will lose? Maybe if you get out of your head a moment, you might nick me.”
“If you didn’t rely on your shadows, I would!” Her eyes flickered with light.I only need to get close.
“Then let me save you the trouble.”
Rune sprang forward. She spun, the tip of her sword nearly grazing his shoulder. His hand shot out, catching her wrist mid-motion. For a heartbeat they halted, blades crossed, eyes locked.
Her heartbeat stuttered beneath his hold. Shadows curled around his boots, mirroring his hunger to close the distance, totastethe defiance in her eyes. She jerked against his iron grip, flailing to break loose.
“There,” he murmured, his nose grazing her neck as he inhaled. “I am close enough to tear out your throat. Now what?”
A growl tore from her throat, and he forced himself to let go. She stumbled back, nearly falling, panting with furious breaths.
“Let’s face it,” Rune said with a bored sigh. “What can a poor, helpless girl do against a god? Against a foreign invasion? Against everything that world has thrusted upon you?”
Alora came at him with a scream.
Her movements blurred, graceful as they were vicious. The mountain rumbled, groaning. He could feel her power now, coiled in her bones, thrumming, and surging, searching for an outlet. She was so focused on him, she didn’t notice the flickers of light on her skin. With every attack, he taunted her, striking closer, crowding her until she lost form and stumbled back.
Then Rune disarmed her in one smooth motion, knocking her blade from her hand.
The sword skidded across the black sand. Instead of reaching for it, Alora tackled him. A glint of metal flashed as they hit the ground. Before the knife could cut him, Rune spun her, pinning her against the sand ground beneath him. Shadows snatched the weapon away.
“Get off me!” Alora shrieked, her breath ragged. Her wide teary eyes were so full of rage.
His hand pressed lightly to her shoulder, keeping her still but not hurting her. With a claw, he pierced a small prick into her shoulder.
A drop of blood rolled down and landed on the stone.
“No,” she whimpered angrily, bucking against him. “No!”
The air crackled, the pressure in the air mounting. She needed one more push.
And he hated himself for knowing exactly where to strike.
“You lost, Alora,” Rune murmured softly as tears spilled along her temples. “As you have lost everything else in your life. Your mother. Your father. Your home.” He swallowed, his chest tightening with his next words. “They abandoned you when you needed them most. Cast you out without explanation, but deep in your heart, you have always known why.”
She shook her head, eyes wet, pleading for him not to say it.
Rune’s jaw locked, his throat burning with the weight of it. “Because you don’t belong.”
The words were poison on his tongue.
He felt the way it shattered something deep inside of her.
