His eyes narrowed in focus, and he strutted up to me. In my periphery, Harthon shifted closer and Stefano tensed.
“Your eyes…they’re luminous,” he said in wonder. Aric lifted two hands, like he meant to touch my face. “May I?”
My initial reaction was a staunch no. Then I recalled how Harthon disliked Aric’s affections toward me.
“Be my guest.”
Was it petty? Yes. Was it dangerous to allow his hands so close to my neck? Absolutely. But perhaps this would make him stop questioning whether I was themagvis.
His fingers cupped my cheeks carefully, tilting my head to bring my eyes into the light. “Absolutely beautiful,” he breathed.
Harthon was mere paces behind him, no doubt ready to snap the Princeps’ neck if he showed any threat.
Always protecting me. Yet he plays with my heart and insults me.
“What causes them to do this?” Aric asked.
“Power,” I said simply, meaning it. Because then and there, my angerwaspower. Eventually, it might break me down, but that would come later.
“Marvelous.” He nodded toward Stefano. “Why train when you have so much power?”
An easy question to lie my way through. “I don’t want my power to be my only defense. Human methods have some value, but I haven’t had a teacher until recently.”
“While you are in excellent hands, I’m sure, I’m also an experienced teacher. If you’re looking for a different perspective, I would be happy to share some skills while you’re here.” Without any endearments or compliments, it seemed to be a sincere offer.
I smiled a little, taking far too much pleasure in saying, “That would be valuable.” Harthon’s hand twitched by his side. Hours ago, he’d called me naïve, but he was the naïve one if he thought I would simply swallow his horseshit. “Why don’t we begin now?”
Aric turned toward Harthon, giving him the opportunity to object, and for the first time since he arrived, I found his face. He’d already found mine, eyes glaring with warning. Then that warning dissolved into wooden coolness, and he shrugged, like he couldn’t care less what we did.
Aric grinned and shook his hands out, backing away several steps. Harthon dismissed Stefano from the room and found a home against the wall, arms crossed like he was observing any other trainee.
Skies, he was tryingsodamned hard to not care.
“We’ll start without weapons. Let me see what I’m working with.” Aric settled into an easy stance, hands lifted. “Come at me.”
I did. And he was as fast as I expected.
Charging him, I attacked with a familiar combination, every one of my hits met with an impenetrable block. I sent another, this one more complex, and nearly made contact with his side before dancing back.
“Not bad,” he complimented, circling me. “Now, I’m going to hit back. Nicely, of course.”
I feinted with a jab, coming up high with a kick when he dodged. He easily absorbed the blow and sent a fist at my face. Ducking, I came back up with a counter. He caught it in his hand, so I did the opposite of what he expected and pushed forward, driving with my knee. He smiled when I met his abdomen and released my fist.
“I liked that.”
Again, he waved me forward. This time, I wound up sprawled on the ground from a kick to my belly. Harthon pushed off the wall.
Aric extended a hand. “Are you alright?”
“Great.” I grasped his hand, yanked, and sent my fingers for his throat.
He lurched away just in time, pleasant surprise painted across his features. “I do love a woman who fights dirty.”
A surge of displeasure rolled across the room.
I offered Aric a sly grin. “Then you’ll be a fan of me.”
“Already am, love.”
