‘Left shoulder,’ he mutters between coughs.
A flicker of a smile touches my lips. I doubt Holden heard, but either way, I don’t care. At least now I’ve got a target. Yet as I fix my gaze entirely on his blade, an icy chill cascades down my spine. The last time a blade struck me, the metal froze under my touch and shattered. But surely that won’t happen here? I’ve fought in the yard hundreds of times and as far as I’m aware there are no Issen spectres doling out their magic inside these walls.
I swallow down the fear pounding through me. No, not fear. Nerves. That’s what Zelle told me. There’s only a dagger in my hand, and that’s not going to cut it, so I crouch to grab a sword.
It’s at that very moment that Holden chooses to lunge.
‘Watch out!’ Llinos yells as his sword whips towards me.
By some miracle, I block it, my own sword bracing just inches above my head as the metal clangs.
As my sword swings one way and then the next, blocking his strikes and attempting my own, a fluidity takes hold. There’s no time to think about the manner in which my feet are moving, nor any need. Turns out the hours of training have paid off. My movements are instinctive and my feet dance across the sand, adrenaline pounding through me, quickening each step.
A grimace contorts Holden’s lips as he swings high, aiming for my neck, but his action is careless and easy to avoid. I duck down and swing hard at the side of his knees.
‘Fuck!’ he cries out. The sudden pain is enough for him to loosen the grip on his sword and it’s the only advantage I need. As I stand back up, I swing my sword higher, putting my body’s momentum behind it and striking the underside of Holden’s blade, knocking it from his hand.
‘Bitch,’ he snarls as the sword clatters to the ground, but he makes no attempt to reach for it. Instead, he brings his hands together, lengthening his fingers and twisting his wrists. I brace myself, ready to duck his fire, but nothing comes. From the pinch of his brow, he’s as confused as I am.
‘I’d say she won that one, wouldn’t you?’ It’s Kyor. He’s watching us from a short distance away, and next to him stands Roderick, Zelle’s replacement siphon.
My chest stutters. Is that pride in Kyor’s expression or something else?
‘I’m sure there are other Rettlings who would benefit from your aid now, Commander,’ Roderick says, though Holden doesn’t so much as glance in his direction. His eyes are trained solely on me.
‘You got lucky, Kultavaris,’ he hisses. ‘And luck always runs out sooner or later.’
His words are so similar to the ones Jonas offered me this morning that they should probably sting. But they don’t. That wasn’t luck just now. That was me. And from the smile on Llinos’s and Benny’s faces, they both saw it.
Yet my gaze moves immediately from them to Kyor, as though seeking his approval.
Neither of us speak as his eyes trail down to my lips. How the hell my body can have such a feral response to just his gaze is beyond me, and yet it does. My heart is racing and it has nothing to do with the fight I just had.
‘I don’t know what you’re doing here,’ I say, trying to keep my tone casual. ‘But unless you’ve come to spar, we’re busy.’
‘Maybe that’s exactly what I’ve come for.’
His eyes lock on mine, and my mind is flooded with images of last night. It’s like I can taste him on my tongue, can feel his hands gently pulling my hair …
Fuck. I’m pretty sure I’m going to start panting.
Tingles start on my skin, static running up and down my body. I want to moan, but I bite my lip.
Damn him! Heistoying with me.
‘Well,’ I say, snapping myself out of it before I lose any more control. ‘Then I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your workout. Llin and I need to get ready for the ball.’
‘Actually, I’m not going.’ Llinos makes no attempt to hide her eavesdropping.
Kyor’s attention finally shifts from me to her, and a single crease forms between his brows.
‘You’re not? Why?’
She moves closer. ‘Because the rules about who is and isn’t allowed to attend are archaic and serve only to bolster the—bolster certain egos.’
Kyor’s frown and confusion only increase.
‘She means her girlfriend can’t come because she’s a scribe and not a member of the court,’ I snap, wanting this ridiculous conversation to be over with as quickly as possible. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, we need to go.’
