Isi strode over to the second one on my left, stretching out her arms, legs, and neck. Jogging in place before dropping onto the mat to do some push-ups. Sit-ups. Warming up her muscles in the same way she was warming up me.
Standing, she flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders back.
Even her warm-up showed no wasted stretch, no idle movement. Everything had been tuned to her own body’s rhythm, as if she knew exactly which muscles she’d call on first. She didn’t fidget, and she didn’t glance around for approval. She just moved with the quiet certainty of someone who trusted herself to do what was needed.
I’d seen war generals prepare for battle with less discipline.
A bead of sweat trickled down her throat. I wanted to capture it with my tongue. Then pin her beneath me on the mat and see if she’d still meet my gaze with her same unyielding fire.
My pulse kicked up harder, and I bit back the urge.
I strode to the edge of the mats, keeping my expression neutral. But my gaze remained on Isi. She caught it, pinned it, and lifted her chin. She wasn’t only daring me, she was owning me. I hated that she might guess how easily I’d drop to my knees and give her everything.
“When you’re ready,” I said, dragging my gaze from hers. “Alert your sparring partner and begin.”
She moved over to stand on the edge of the mat, shifting her weight from foot to foot, shaking out her hands, her eyes sharp as she assessed Maddox warming up in front of her. Her breath came steady, though sweat trickled across her temple and caught on her jaw.
Since we’d first met, I’d been a wreck. I hadn’t slept well. My dreams were full of her, of her thighs straddling mine, the quiet hitch of her breath when I pinned her beneath me, and the way she’d clung to me when we kissed.
She’d kissed me back.
Every meal tasted like soot. I sat through advisor briefings and heard nothing but her name. Gavelle had started giving me pointed looks each time I drifted off mid-sentence.
The group’s bonded creatures had moved over to wait near the wall, mingling together, watching in their silent, knowing way. Nexxa blinked her mossy green eyes, her head tilted. Ashmaw’s forked tail coiled as tight as a spring.
And still, I stared at Isi.
She turned her head and caught my gaze, daring me to look away.
I didn’t flinch.
Neither did she.
Standing across from her, Maddox growled like this was a battlefield. His shoulders squared, his fingers flexed, and eyes already narrowed on her in challenge. There was no pretense to him. He wanted to win, and he didn’t care how he did it.
Isi nodded his way. Her head tipped, her braid sliding over one shoulder as she rolled it back into place. This woman was dangerous in a way Maddox didn’t seem to understand yet.
The others had started sparring on their mats already, their boot falls thudding across the room, grunts echoing in the high stone ceiling. I watched them out of the periphery of my eye.
Moving around the outer aspect of the mats, I crossed my arms on my chest and tried not to be too obvious about how I watched Isi and Maddox square up.
Bryson moved quickly across from Derren, hooking his opponent’s arm in a lock and sweeping him flat onto the ground with a sharp exhale. Derren grunted, slapped the mat, and lay there for a moment staring at the ceiling as if reconsidering every decision that had led him to enter the Rite of Bonds.
Lexie tangled with Fenna on the far side, their movements like a dance. Fenna went for Lexie’s ribs, but Lexie turned the momentum, caught the other woman’s wrist, and spun them both down in a controlled fall. She pinned Fenna neatly, then offered a hand to help her up.
Kerralyn wasn’t so lucky. Crey had her on her back within seconds.
Her bright laughter rang out.
“You blinked, Kerr,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you not to blink?”
“Shut up,” she snorted, rubbing the back of her head.
As they finished and rose to their feet, they all turned to watch Isi and Maddox circling each other.
Maddox struck first, as I knew he would. A low kick meant to sweep her leg out from underneath her. Dirty, fast. He fought like someone who’d learned battle techniques in a back alley.
Isi shifted her weight, moving lightly out of reach, then pivoted and used his momentum to draw him forward.
