He grunted a yes. “I do not think you are the first one I have taught.” He cocked his head to one side. “But I believe you are the first human I have taught. I am certain you are the first female.”
That tracked. The Kolt I’d been thrown in the prison cell with would never have entertained the idea of teaching anything to a human woman. He’d barely tolerated my presence.
I tried not to think of that as I smiled at him. “Let’s see how good a teacher you are, big guy.”
A smile twitched the corners of his mouth, he handed me a fake battle axe that matched his own, and he motioned with his head to the stage. “Vaes.”
I didn’t tell him he’d spoken in Vandar, as I followed him from the shadowy wings onto the wooden stage. High above us, faint morning light filtered through skylights and dappled the scuffed planks. I peered out into the open space in front of the stage with a floor of straw-strewn stone and farther to the elevated bench seats ringing three sides. It was all empty now, but it wasn’t hard to imagine it packed with people.
The place still carried the scent of sweat and dust mixed with stale ale and perfume, as if both the actresses and patrons still filled the seats and walked the floorboards.
“I’m not sure if we should be here,” I whispered, suddenly feeling very exposed.
Kolt walked halfway across the stage and turned. “The sun is weak. It is still early. If we hear anything, we can run.”
I wasn’t sure if we could make it all the way back to the dressing room if someone entered from the back, but who would use the public entrance at this time? Also, I doubted very much that he could run on his wounded leg.
“If you’re a quick learner, this won’t take long,” he said with a hint of challenge in his voice. “I will move slower because of my leg, but try to keep up.”
That straightened my spine, and I laughed. “Still cocky? Don’t worry about me, big guy. I’m a quick learner.”
His grin was wolfish as he bent into a modified crouch with his injured leg extended straight. He held the axe across his body, with both hands gripping the handle. “Follow my movements.”
I mimicked the position of his body and his hands, bending at my knees. I even replicated his predatory grin.
This provoked a deep, throaty laugh from him, and the sound echoed around us and skated down my spine.
Focus, Skye. Do not get distracted by his sexy voice.
He took a step to one side, and I did the same, but in the other direction. His eyes never left my face, the pupils glittering black. My heart pounded and my mouth went dry. Being stalked by the Vandar—even if I knew it wasn’t real—sent a thrill through me I desperately tried to ignore.
Then he swung his axe up and down, and I hurried to copy his movements, the blades striking each other in mid-air. As soonas they touched, he pivoted on his good leg and spun, bringing his axe around so quickly that I couldn’t keep up.
I stumbled back, the axe flailing. Instead of going for the strike, Kolt lunged forward and caught me. But my momentum was too great, and his other leg was still too weak to catch him, so I pulled him with me to the floor. Before my back hit, he jerked me flush to him and slammed his other hand to the wood.
I was breathing heavily, as he then lowered me to the floor with his body braced over mine, a wince the only indication that he’d strained his wounded leg. “Are you okay?”
“I am fine,” he husked, the purr of his voice skating down my spine.
Then I forgot all about battle training and even his wound as his eyes flashed heat, and he captured my lips in a fierce kiss. I let myself get so swept up in the feel of his mouth on mine and the heat of his body as he pressed it to me, I even forgot where we were.
Until I heard a throat being cleared and a foot tapping on the floorboards.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Kolt
So much for hearing anyone who entered the theatre.
I reluctantly pulled away from Skye, already missing the softness of her lips as I slid my gaze to the green boots tapping rapid fire. At least they weren’t Imperial boots. I tipped my head back to see who they belonged to and wasn’t surprised to see the orange-haired stage manager who’d snagged us the day before.
“You two again.” His mouth was pursed, his arms were crossed, and he did not look pleased to see us again. “Don’t try to tell me you’re our newest cast members.”
I favored my wounded leg as I stood and pulled Skye up with me, leaving the fake weapons on the ground and fluttering my hand to check that the blaster I’d tucked into thewaistband of my battle kilt was still there. I doubted I would need it, but you could never be too careful or too armed.
“No one else has keys to the theatre but me,” he snapped. “How did you get in here?”
