When his brow dips, my heart misses a beat. Did he hear me? I hunt his gaze for a stray thought, but I’m met with loud, dismal silence.
“Best of three?” he suggests.
I nod. “No magic allowed.”
He acquiesces. “No magic. Ilya, arbitrate?”
“Sure thing.”
At Ilya’s whistle, I drop into a fighting stance and start to circle Konstantin. His eyes sparkle with enjoyment, which annoys me to no end. I glance at his right side, making sure to let my gaze linger there. And then I lurch forward, toward his left, and pump my leg. Not only does he block the shot, but he catches my heel. I spin my body, whipping my foot from his grasp, and land in a crouch.
All right, then. No feinting.Direct hits, it’ll be.
I wait for him to attack, but the male remains on the defensive. Not even on the defensive. He just stands there, feet planted wide, tracking my every move, listening to my every breath.
“Here I thought you’d fight like you reigned,” I taunt him.
“How do I reign?”
“You don’t wait for things to come to you. Or at least, I didn’t think you did… Perhaps I was wrong, and you aren’t the go-getter I deemed you to be.”
Instead of spurring him to react, a provocative smile curls his mouth. “Don’t you know the old adage:good things come to those who wait?”
I stop moving, realizing he’s not going to attack. “Is that why Ksenia’s been MIA for so long?” It’s a low blow, but not any lower than him keeping it from me.
His smile collapses. “Who told you?”
“Not. You,” I grit out. “Ilya, what’s your brother’s weakness?”
“You,” Ilya says.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Ilya says.
In Serpent, Elio says, “He’s favoring his left side.”
As I concentrate on Konstantin’s stance, I note that heisputting more weight on his left foot. How did I miss it? “You should’ve told me.”
His throat clenches. I kick. He blocks my foot without even glancing away from my face.
I skip backward to regroup. For a tell-all, I need to win. But how? What will put him off his guard? What will get him to react? I suppose I could strip, but we have an audience. Another idea froths to the forefront of my mind. One which I’m certain will get a reaction.
With an inflammatory smile, I drop my arms, straighten, and step gingerly toward him. His eyebrows hunch, as do the corners of his mouth. Once I’m within reach, I just stand there, open for the taking.
A beat goes by.
Two.
Ilya boos.
Konstantin’s pupils shrink a heartbeat before he finally moves. He shackles my wrists and whirls me around.
When my back smacks his front, I twist my head and murmur, “So predictable.”
“Yet you’re the one at my mercy.”
“I’ve a little secret for you. Come closer.”
