Pops took the hit in his open palm, absorbing the phoenix heat as if it was nothing. To Pops, it probably was.
“Good strength.” He pivoted and swept Koa off his feet with a single grounded spin-kick.
Koa slammed into the dirt hard, smoldering slightly.
Three seconds passed.
“Fates,” he coughed, getting back on wobbly feet. “Your kick shattered my ankle.”
Pops shrugged. “Limp over the perimeter. It’ll heal. Next time, don’t leave your bottom half open.”
“Noted,” Koa mumbled, limping over the golden ward slowly.
“Dimitri Nocturnus,” Dad shouted.
The vampire I’d locked eyes with earlier walked into the arena with Pops, his eyes glowing red. His black hair fell to hisshoulders, and that one stark white patch was still as pretty as it was when I first saw him. His lean frame moved with precision.
His name suited him.
Dimitri didn’t waste time saying anything. He only nodded once before launching his attack.
Pops almost struggled to catch the strikes. Left hook, right uppercut, knee, palm, and right hook.
Pops managed to block all four, stepped inside Dimitri’s space, and slammed an elbow into his gut.
Dimitri hit one knee with a hand gripping the loose dirt. When he looked up, his voice was softer than I expected. “Impressive, Professor Bloodwyne.”
Pops’s lips twitched into a smirk. “You as well, Dimitri.”
Pops fought the rest of the applicants until it was just me. We lost another fifteen applicants with this trial because Pops deemed them unworthy for some reason or another.
Nobody questioned his assessments.
My heartbeat echoed in my ears as my turn loomed closer. Adrenaline pumped through my veins.
Pops turned to me and rolled his shoulders, his massive form still completely calm. No bruises or sweat. Even though he’d sparred with, well, more like defeated with one hit, over one-hundred other applicants.
He gave me a faint, knowing smile. “I can’t fight my daughter. She knows all my tricks. Jesper?”
“M-Me?” His eyes widened, snapping to meet mine. “You want me to fight your daughter?”
“I want you tosparwith her.” Pops chuckled, stepping out of the arena and slapping Jesper’s shoulder. “She’s already beaten me twice. Watch yourself.”
I stepped onto the dirt as whispers broke out about me actually winning a match with my pops. As proud as I was to winagainst him, two wins against the well-over a thousand he won wasn’t as impressive as I’d wanted it to be.
Jesper stepped forward, and his winter woods scent was exactly like I remembered. It settled over me beautifully. Clean, sharp, andpowerful.
My magic stirred low under my skin, but I smothered it. I wouldn’t need it to fight him, even if he was a dragon.
He stopped across from me, his chest defined beneath the tight black suit. I couldn’t help my gaze dipping between his legs, where there was a very noticeable bump. His muscles flexed subtly as he rolled one shoulder, bringing my thoughts out of the gutter quickly.
He gave me a half-smile. “I apologize for this.”
“Don’t hold back,” I said, cracking my knuckles.
“I was about to say the same,” he murmured, voice low and rasped, reminding me of the crack of ice under weight. “If you’ve beaten Gavin, you’re more than formidable for me.”
Pops blew a whistle.
