Grace tried to convince me our generation wouldn’t bring forth the revolution in any way other than bloodshed and more despair. And I bet her that we’d be the ones to do it. Then she laid into me about the peaceful future she envisioned, but that Hunters are incapable of putting vicious pride and bred brutality aside to accomplish it.
Three years later, I fell to my knees and proposed to the loveliest person I’d ever known, and I promised her that our dreams were aligned. That we would bring peace because we weren’t out for only revenge and short-sighted survival goals. Our vision spanned generations.
She didn’t roll her eyes that time.
Grace spins her blade of choice, her body lunging and dancing through movements as she warms herself in the brisk room, her breath billowing and her eyes alight with an energy that only emerges when she’s fighting. Those green eyes burn as they flick to me.
Gods, she’s breathtaking.
“Hunter Kade,” she coos, her smirk tipping toward her long lashes as she hits me with the most seductive glance over the edge of her sword.
“Wife,” I challenge. “How hard do you want to go?”
She laughs, and her eyes spark. “Might be our last time for a while.”
“So all in, then,” I tell her with a broad smile and then let my face fall into seriousness.
“Yes,” she growls.
I strip my shirt, shaking out the muscles in my arms as Gracie consumes me with her eyes, not giving a shit that we’re surrounded by others.
She quirks an eyebrow at me, and I shrug innocently, flexing my abs.
Grace laughs. “Gods bless, Kade. The distraction tactic isunfair.”
I blow her a kiss and release my most charming smile, only to be greeted by an eye roll and a groan as I yank a sword from the wall and set up across from her.
Grace lunges without warning, her sword nicking my belt, and Hunters cheer in response.
My eyes flick to hers.
Hunger looks back at me.
I scoff. “Are you trying to undress me in front of everyone?”
“You started it,” she deadpans and attacks as Hunters holler.
I push her back, but she doesn’t stumble; just like always, her nimble limbs carry her like a dancer across the floor.
“Come and get it, baby,” Grace purrs, skirting around me, and I spin to track her.
“Aye,” I promise with my sword thrusting, forcing her to dart left.
She swings her sword with no mercy, and I meet her, steel against steel, until we’re both heaving for air. Tossing her blade, her strength waning without magic, Grace snatches the whip from her belt and cracks it through the air at me.
My eyes narrow, and my arousal spikes. “Not in front of the boys, my love.” I duck away from the slashing leather, looking for an opening and catching her contagious, taunting grin.
Her whip snaps across my boots, and I dart for her, sweeping her legs before she lands another strike.
She hits the ground on her back but is already rolling away from my attack and springing from the floor. Grace collides with my body, the force of her lands me on my ass, and she straddles my lap, eyes fierce and wild.
My magic whirrs, and then pain rockets through me as Sam’s magic trembles against mine.
“Fuck!” I yell and catch Grace’s wrists, stilling her. Confusion crosses her face as my body contorts beneath her.
Rhett and Riot rush us.
“Is it Sam?” Rhett demands, worry etched in his eyes.
