Aethan’s powerful body went still, then he tracked her with that stalking gait, one that warned his prey had no chance of escape. His gray irises sparked a dangerous white.
Oh, crap! He was furious. She had no idea why.
Hastily, she retreated a step, then another as he followed. Her back hit the wall, her dagger pointed at him. He slapped his palms on the granite surface, locking her in. “What exactly did you hope to prove with that little stunt?”
“Aethan—” Shock blasted through her. “What the hell? You just walked into my blade?”
“You know the damn rules, Echo, no matter the situation, whether a true fight or training, you use your fucking blade,” he snapped. “In this arena, when we’re together, I am not your mate—”
“But I’d have used my dagger and would have already slashed your tendons had you truly been evil,” she protested. “The sword is too long. It wouldn’t work for that.”
“I don’t give—” he bit off a curse and inhaled sharply as if trying to calm down. “You’ve done this before.”
“Many times. Since I’m not a strapping girl, nor do I possess the weight or muscles to take down my opponent, I’ve learnt to adapt. I…” She bit her lip, to stop its tremor, remembering. “Damon showed me how...”
At the mention of her former guardian who’d left over a year ago, Aethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course.”
No, her mate didn’t like Damon. At all.
But Damon had been more than her guardian or the man who’d rescued a young, traumatized orphan girl from the streets and then adopted her; he’d been her family.
Still, if he could simply walk away after ten years together without even a goodbye to her, guess he hadn’t been that invested in their relationship after all.
Aethan lowered his hand, his gray eyes searching hers. “You okay?” he asked quietly. He knew it still hurt her that Damon had left so abruptly. She straightened her spine and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s continue…”
* * *
Later that morning, Darci finished her email and hit send. The caterers had been finally locked down, along with her menu preference. But Blaéz remained in her thoughts.
He hadn’t been in bed when she’d gotten up later that morning. She wasn’t surprised, considering he never went back to sleep after those nightmares of Tartarus.
When she’d seen him at their midday meal, he appeared his normal, tormenting self and that eased her.
She understood it had only been six months since he got his soul back, along with his emotions… It had to be why the nightmares plagued him. Because there was no enemy, no loose ends. Maloch was dead. The past had finally been buried. Hopefully, in time, those nightmares would fade, too.
Darci pushed to her feet and stilled, goosebumps prickling over her arms. Her gaze darted to the tall window. Cold, noon sunlight slanted inside, brightening the massive library and highlighting a few dust specks, but she couldn’t see anyone.
Darn. She was still too edgy and didn’t need an overactive imagination, as well, when she had more pressing problems to deal with.
Finnén.
If he was around, then she had to be prepared for anything. He was dangerous and had a couple of screws loose as far as she was concerned.
Perhaps she could ask Echo for help. Her friend had been a self-defense instructor before she mated Aethan. With Finnén snooping around, Darci refused to be unprepared. Or unarmed.
About to leave, movement at the window drew her attention. She smiled, her worry easing.There you are.
Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, Blaéz bent his arm over his head, the other hand tugging at the elbow as if to loosen the muscles in his side. Strange, he never used this side of the castle to start his run.
His tee rose up at his actions, briefly revealing a side-view of his smooth, lightly tanned stomach and back. She could never resist his hard, mouth-wateringly sculptured abs. So why waste a golden opportunity to torment him?
Before he disappeared, she darted to the French door, opened it, and shuddered at the blast of cold air snatching her breath as she stepped out. “Hey, you.”
Blaéz pivoted. Something dark flashed in his eyes. The next minute, he was on her, pushing her against the rugged wall and kissing her hard and deep.
“Blaéz—” She pushed him back, breathing heavily. He stared at her for several seconds then spun away, taking off for his run in a blur.
Frowning, Darci touched her slightly tender lips. He’d never been so aggressive with her. Her heart tripped with unease as she stared in the direction he’d gone. Was it the nightmare? God, she never felt this helpless before. They had to find a way for those dreams to stop—they just had to.
