“A sniper going easy on someone? That’s a first.”
The voice sliced through our spar like a blade.
Lionel stiffened, then snapped his hand to his temple. “Sir.”
Shit.
I turned, meeting those blazing red eyes. My jaw tightened before I could stop myself.
Malakai smirked, savoring it. “Kitten.”
My body moved on instinct, I stepped forward, fists curling, until a hand clamped around my wrist. Lionel, holding me back.
“Stop calling me that,” I ground out between my teeth.
“Then prove you can do more than hiss.” The Lieutenant’s brow arched, taunting. “Or leave,” he added, before he strode past us.
I burned holes into his back with my glare, watching him survey the sparring grounds like he owned the place. Which I guess, he technically did? When I finally turned back to Lionel, heat still boiled in my chest.
“You should’ve let me hit him.Just once.”
“And get you thrown in the cell again?” His voice was sharp now, colder than before. “Not happening.”
I exhaled hard, irritation crawling under my skin like fire. “Again.”
And before Lionel could protest, I lunged at him.
He was caught off guard, reacting too slowly, as I got a hit in against his abdomen. A low grunt, before he steadied himself, blocking my next strike.
My blood felt as if it was on fire, and with it my pace quickened, my body was working on its own.
A strike to his head, Lionel blocked, I swept to the side, jumping for a blow from above. He ducked and caught my fist in his hands. Our eyes locked and he looked surprised, as if he hadn’t seen me like this.
My fury.
He curved his arms in, taking a defensive position, watching me like a hawk. It didn’t matter, I had no pattern. I took a step closer, earning a reaction from him, but I squatted down and swung my leg out, kicking his feet off the ground. He stumbled, but successfully regained his balance just in time for my foot to kick him in his chest, tipping him over.
Lionel landed on his ass, looking up at me with wide eyes. I came flying down for one last hit, but he caught it and pulled me down with him.
I struggled against his grip, but when his other hand found my forehead, I froze.
“Do you have a fever?” he asked confused, searching my face.
I panted, releasing the rage that had taken over me. “No.”
“You’re burning up,” he pushed on, worrying conquering his calm.
I brushed his hand off and retreated from him. “I’m fine.” There was no time for sickness, I wouldn’t allow myself that.
Lionel stood up, chasing after me. “Ethalyn—”
“Really, I’m fine.”
His mouth closed, jaw tensing as if wanting to argue, but he kept quiet. Instead he stared, until guilt found its way into me.
Gods, why did he have that effect on me?
I averted my gaze, but instead it collided with those scarlet ones, cold as ice. Malakai was staring at me from across the courtyard as if I was hisnext kill.
