I dropped my hands, blinking. I knew I had no experience, but that was…harsh.
He circled around to my front, forehead wrinkled in thought. “The basics are there, but you’re thinking about everything too hard. You need to get to a point where each jab or kick isn’t a process, just a single reaction. Practice them on your own, one hundred repetitions each, every morning the moment you wake up.”
His blunt evaluation was painfully accurate, though it didn’t make me hate his delivery any less. He didn’t allow me time to respond to his instructions before we moved on.
“Did you go over blocks?” he asked.
“Just the ones that deflect hits.” Callen had shown me how to use my forearms to stop a fist or slap, but I didn’t have the chance to block a real one.
Not that I wanted Callen to throw a punch at me the other day. Or any day.
“Good. They’re essential to know, but you should lean on evasion tactics more.” His eyes lowered to my feet and tracked up my body, my skin tingling beneath his scrutiny. “You’re too small to deflect multiple hits from most soldiers.”
My jaw dropped. I was stronger than the average woman. “That’srude.”
“No, it’s fact. Your forearm would break if you blocked a hit from me or someone with my size or power. Dodging and then striking will serve you better.”
This time, I allowed my gaze to dip and trace over those bulging muscles, which could easily squash me.
Maybe he had a point.
“So how do I g—”
The air shifted just so, and then bronzed skin was careening toward my face. With a yelp, I jolted back, but I knew I’d be too slow even as I tried to step out of his reach. I slammed my eyes shut just as an open palm landed lightly on my cheek.
There was no pain—only a firm reminder that, had Harthon wanted to strike me, I’d be on the ground because I couldn’t move quickly enough.
Slowly, I peeled my eyelids open, my heart slamming against my ribs, to see Harthon’s lips turned down.
“Your eyes need to stay open, and your reflexes need work,” he observed, dropping his hand.
“I wasn’t expecting you to do that,” I shot back, setting my shoulders back in an effort to regain some composure.
“Do you think your opponents will give you a heads up before hitting you?”
The derisive question grated on my nerves. “Obviously not. I just didn’t realize you were myopponentand this was a real fight.”
“Training should always replicate fighting. Even if I’m instructing you, you should treat me as an opponent.”
Here I’d thought Callen was a torturous training instructor. It had only been a few minutes, and it was already clear that Harthon was far more intense. But as uneasy as that made me, a begrudging part of me recognized that I’d never learn if training was easy. And the quicker I learned, the sooner I could stop leaning on others to protect me and begin to hold my own. The better I could hold my own, the sooner I could successfully ditch Harthon and ensure my and Merelda’s survival.
So I held myself alert and waited to see if Harthon would strike or speak next.
“Generally, when something swipes at your upper body from the side, you duck. If the hit is coming from above, you sidestep or spin. For low kicks, you step back if you can clear it, and for the rest, you need to make a judgment call. Questions?”
I mentally repeated his fast words, picturing each evasion in my head. Duck with a side swipe. Spin or sidestep for slices from above or higher kicks. Jump over—
Harthon didn’t even shift his weight before a heel was jammed against my stomach, sending me careening toward the hard ground. The air whooshed from my lungs as I landed on my ass on the cold dirt.
For Domus’ sake, how could I evade him when I didn’t have time to remember the tactic?
The complaint shot to my tongue.
Then I stared up at the unyielding expression on his face and swallowed it back. Complaints didn’t have a place here. They wouldn’t do anything but make me look weak, and Harthon had saved me enough times now that proving my strength was an uphill battle.
And, dammit, Iwasstrong.
So I stood, and when he swiped his hand toward my face from the side again, I ducked, the hairs on my head stirring as his hand passed the space. I popped back up as he gave me a small nod of approval.
