Fights aren’t fair, huh?
I closed my eyes and rolled my shoulders as I focused on those lustful thoughts a bit more. I moved my hands in a ball shape as if I were holding all those feelings and molded it into a physical form of energy before pushing it toward him as hard as I could.
My eyes sprung open as he sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes rolled back, and I took the opportunity to pounce without a thought.
I expected a struggle, but he didn’t attempt to avoid me. I knocked him to the floor, straddled his waist, and pinned his wrists to either side of his head.
It was too fucking easy, and my heart thumped hard against my ribs.
“You didn’t play fair, Poppy.” Blaise’s hands trailed up my thighs and rested on my hips, sending a bolt of silky heat to my core. “You’re a fast learner.”
A low moan escaped me. “I didn’t—”
“Bullshit.” His grip on my hips tightened, pressing me down onto him and making me squirm. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you shot me with a ball of lust.”
My lips tugged into a smirk. “Okay, maybe I did. But I won the challenge, so you have to tell me where you learned all your fighting moves.”
His face softened along with his grip, and I swung my leg off him and sat next to him as he propped himself up on the back of his forearms. “A deal’s a deal.”
“I’m waiting.”
“Before I was turned, I was a blacksmith with my father.” He hesitated, not meeting my gaze. “I grew up in Wales, and life back then was bloody hard. If you were wondering, I was born in 1692 and turned in 1718, like the rest of my brothers.”
Holy shit, he’s old.
He rolled his eyes. “That’s offensive, Poppy. I’m not that old.”
I drew my shoulders up as I pulled my legs into my chest. Resting my chin on my knees, I mumbled, “Sure you are.”
“My family was considered middle class, so we weren’t exactly stony-broke...I couldn’t imagine what Kai went through,” he said as he shook his head.
“What do you mean?” My heart twisted a bit. I’d come to care a hell of a lot about Kai. To think he’d been through anything difficult hurt me, and it made me realize I didn’t know that much about Kai at all.
“It’s not my story to tell.” He sat up and dragged a hand down his face. “But if you’re still interested, I’ll tell you mine.” His face was sullen as if he’d thought I didn’t want to hear more about him, and that didn’t sit well with me.
I scooted closer and placed a hand on his thigh. “I’d love to learn more about your past, Blaise.”
He nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. The vulnerability in his eyes melted me. I’d never seen him like that. Granted, I hadn’t known Blaise long, but I cared about him—about all of them—in ways I never cared about Corbin.
“My mum died of smallpox when I was a child, and it was bloody traumatizing. She got sick—it was like it came out of nowhere, and the town set up a quarantine for those showing symptoms. Her body got red and scratchy. She was drenched in sweat, and I kept bringing buckets of cold water from the well but wasn't allowed near her. Then, they took her, and a few days later…” He squeezed my hand tight. “They told my father and me that she had died. The whole outbreak came and went so fucking fast. And with it, half the population. Smallpox was rubbish. I didn’t even get to tell her bye. Relief didn’t cover what I felt when it was eradicated.” He let out a shaky breath.
After all these years, talking about his mom was something difficult for him. I couldn’t imagine losing someone in that way. Not being able to be with them when they died, especially from smallpox, it sounded heartbreaking. But I could see the love he held for her.
“You were close with her then?”
“Bloody right. It was the three of us; Mum, Dad, and me. Mum took the best care of me. We played, and she taught me how to do household stuff, which was frowned upon back then. Dad and her were in love. When she died, everything went to shit,” he said.
“What happened?”
“Dad was a blacksmith, best in Wales. He worked long hours, and I was left to fend for myself. When I was able, he had me work the cauldron. The heat burned my hands and face, but he wouldn't let me stop. I'd often wake up to the sound of his hammering.” His eyes got a distant look in them as if he was reliving being with them. I hated the thought of him being all alone, without his parents. “My father was a strong man. I worked alongside him until he died in his sleep when I was nineteen.” He sucked in a shaky breath.
I moved closer and straddled his lap, wrapping my arms around him and running my hands through his hair as he rested his head on my chest. It was an intimate position, and all I wanted to do was take the heartache away from him.
He gave me a half-hearted chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve talked about my family. It feels good.”
“You talk highly of them. I’m sure they were proud of you.”
His body tensed. “I don’t know about that. The other kids hated me. Picked fights all the time.”
