“Yes.”
“You said I didn't have to do that!”
“You probably won't have to, but I want you prepared in the event of an emergency. I won't have you going onto a battlefield without knowing how to defend yourself with your bare hands.”
“Bare hands? You want me to punch the Corrupter?”
The other Wraith Lords chortled.
“If you have to,” Rath said, silencing them. “Or any of the Corrupted he might send after you.”
“I could just fade away.”
“If you ever learn that skill.”
“Oh, that's mean.” I made a face at him.
“No, it's honest. We don't know if your Spirit Magic will be the same as ours. Regardless, you need to be able to defend yourself without magic, Ember.”
“Fine. But I'm no good with my hands.”
“That's not what I heard,” Sern called out.
“Shut up,” I drawled. “Xaedren doesn't kiss and tell.”
“Are you sure?” Jackel teased.
“Yes,” I said without an ounce of doubt.
That shut them up. It also put a scowl on Rath's face.
“Sorry,” I whispered to him.
“It's fine,” he said and went to the stairs. When I just stood there, watching him leave, he shouted, “Are you coming?”
I grimaced at Jakel and Sern, and they burst into laughter again.
“Ember!” Rath shouted.
“I'm right behind you, for fuck's sake!” I shouted back and followed him down the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I followed Rath down to the ground floor and then outside the keep. He took me around the side of the building, to the training yard that I hadn't known existed. The space was hemmed with weapon racks, benches, and currently, over fifty Wraith Lords. Most of them weren't sparring with the wooden weapons or even real ones. They were watching two men beat up each other in the center of the yard.
One of those men was Xaedren.
“What the fuck?” I whispered and stopped walking.
“Great,” Rath muttered. “Come on, we can—”
The rest of his words were lost to cheering. Since I was still watching the match in open-mouthed horror, I knew immediately what the cheering was for. Xaedren. He had delivered a punch to his opponent that sent the man—a fucking Tytra—soaring into an arch to land on his back. And he didn't get up.
As the crowd cheered, Xaedren spotted me. He locked stares with me, his chest rising and falling heavily. I couldn't hold his stare for long. The rest of him screamed for my attention. Xae looked magnificent—blond hair wild, like sunshine streaming about him; bare chest glistening, all golden-brown and delicious; and that pale stare glittering as he licked his lips. A champion ready for his prize.
And oh, did I want to be that prize.
Slowly, the crowd became aware that the victor was focused on a new target. The Wraith Lords looked my way, and several of them chuckled. A few even called out encouragement to my Ladrin. Things that made Xae grin, Rath glare, and me blush.
