“Do you want me to?”
“Never.”
I caught her wrist, my fingers locking, twisting with skill honed from years of combat. She spun, graceful and fast, and our bodies collided. Heat flared immediately, pooling in the pit of my belly. I could almost hear her heartbeat thrumming beneath my palm, loud in the quiet that swallowed the room.
Her eyes caught mine, and defiance flickered there, the spark that dared me to test her limits.
We traded another flurry of strikes. Then she dropped low, and I barely caught the sweep of her leg before I stumbled. My hands flew to her waist, and I pulled her down with me.
We hit the mat, her landing braced above me, her thighs spread on either side of my hips. I splayed my fingers across the curve of her hips.
This wasn’t a sparring match. It was a reckoning. She’d found every weakness I’d hidden and touched it with bare hands.
Her gaze locked on mine, and I found no hesitation, no doubt, only fierce intent that trailed fire down my spine.
She leaned in and claimed my mouth in a kiss carved from all we’d been holding back. It was a kiss that burned away the fight, the barriers, the careful silence that had stretched between us since the moment we bantered this morning. Softness collided with urgency, the smooth press of her lips on mine countered by a quick edge of teeth, the stroke of tongue.
I rolled us, pinning her enough that her breath jerked against my chest, though I took care not to press down too hard. I slid my hand from her hip up to cradle her jaw, brushing along the line where her skin met her hair. I eased the other across her nape, angling her head to deepen the kiss.
Her fingers trembled as they cupped my face.
A low growl caught in my throat as the world narrowed until it was just us.
I broke the kiss and rested my forehead against hers. The heat between us remained, a thrumming current that refused to dissipate, tightening in my chest and making my pulse pound loud enough to drown out the echo of the empty training hall.
“You came to my rooms for answers,” I said, my voice low. “Tell me what you need.”
“I…” Her gaze darted away.
It was all I could do not to howl. I wanted her to trust me but trust needed to be earned. I’d just have to work harder.
I got to my feet, offering her my hand with the same certainty I’d held in the fight.
From the rafters above, Gavelle fluttered his wings, still watching.
I locked my eyes on hers. “Trust me.”
“I don’t know if I can.” She rushed to the door then left the training hall, fleeing out into the corridor beyond.
I followed, keeping her in sight.
She only looked back once, and she didn’t go far.
When I reached the main corridor, she was leaning against the wall, one hand braced on the stone, the other twisted into a fist at her side. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts.
I didn’t speak. Just stepped close enough for her to feel me. To let her choose.
Her eyes swept over me. “You followed me.”
“I don’t know how not to.”
Something broke inside her, and with a groan, she surged forward, grabbing the front of my tunic, pulling me into another kiss.
It wasn’t soft or pretty, but full of pure, raw need. Her mouth searched mine while she pressed her body flush against me.
We stumbled into the nearest empty room, and I slammed the door shut behind us. Locked it with magic.
I walked us backward until my spine hit the wall. Her hands went to my shoulders, then slid down my arms, gripping tight. I cupped her hips and pulled her in, guiding her flush against my cock. She understood. Fates, she understood. Because she moved with me, pressing in the exact way I craved her.
