“Okay,” I reply slowly.
“It looks like you’re ready.” He gestures toward me, acknowledging my fresh clothes.
“I am, but I’d like to know for later.”
“I’ll take you this evening,” he grumbles, clearly inconvenienced. I note the fact that he saystakeyou instead ofshowyou, but I don’t question his wording, especially when he seems to be bothered by the whole thing in the first place.
Ziv faces me fully, running his eyes over me from head to toe. I shift my feet, squirming under his direct attention. He makes a grunting sound and tips his head back. I suppose that’s an approval of some sort, and I’ll take that over a rebuke any day.
“Let’s go.” He moves with a fluid grace that shouldn’t be possible for someone his size, and it’s enviable. Even while ducking to get out of the door, he looks nimble.
I jump into action, hurrying after him until I reach his side. His strides slow so I only have to take two paces to match his. I try to pay attention to where we’re going, but this place feels bigger than half the city I grew up in with way more twists and turns. With a little less distress and gloom riding me, I begin to notice the fine furnishings and art decorating Ivy. Scene after scene of battles are depicted in the many canvases and tapestries, and some even have date placards under them, but we’re moving much too fast for me to catch more than a glimpse.
The sounds of struggling and wails can be heard long before we find our way into the arena. I peek over at Ziv to see if he’s alarmed, but he looks almost serene as a particularly loud, pain-filled howl splits the air. My stomach bottoms out, and I realize I didn’t wake with the nagging hunger I’ve grown so accustomed to. Maybe it would be better if I had. I have a feeling I might want to hurl when I see what Ziv has in store for me. I never could stomach the gallows in town, let alone the fights.
“Is combat mandatory?” I bite my bottom lip as the huge open doors grow closer. I can smell the sweat and sand.
“For you, it is.” He comes to a halt and peers down at me. “Don’t worry, little flower. I won’t break you.”
“I’m training with you, like…” I make useless fists and poke them toward him. “Fighting you?”
I think the thing happening to his face might be a grin of some sort, but it’s far too wicked to contain any real mirth. “I’ll need to assess your strengths to decide how to start.”
“I don’t have any strengths.” I shake my head. Why wasn’t I more worried about this before?
“Then I will teach you. There may come a time when I won’t be there to take care of you.” He places his hand on my shoulder, and even the weight of his touch feels like too much, especially when the weird tingling starts again and my stomach tries to turn itself inside out. Ziv yanks his hand back as if I telegraphed my discomfort, and the weird feeling peters out, leaving me reeling yet again.
I open my mouth to ask Ziv if he just used his power on me or if it happens because he’s a god, but he stomps through the doors, leaving me with a view of his very wide back. When my eyes dip to his leather-covered ass, I actually wince in embarrassment before jogging after him.
Heads turn to watch him stroll into the ring. Much to my dismay, the place resembles the fighting circle back home, onlyten times larger, and the seating surrounding the space goes so high, I wonder if you have to fly to reach the balconies up there.
There are easily a hundred novices clustered in small groups. Some are utilizing their abilities while shrouded within a shielded area, but most seem to be fighting hand-to-hand. I turn at the right moment to see a particularly vicious punch thrown at the nose of a female who is a good head taller than me with the weight to match. Her head rocks back with so much force, I’m convinced it’s going to snap off her neck, but she quickly recoups and delivers a wicked jab to the male across from her with twin rivers of blood trailing from her nostrils.
“I’m so dead,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“You may wish you were, lit—” Ziv cuts the word off short, but I’m certain he was going to call me little flower again. “But I won’t let you die.”
“Strangely enough, that’s not very comforting.” I know he hears me, even though my words are spoken softly.
The others move out of our way as Ziv leads us through the field of death. I feel their eyes on my back as we pass, but no one acknowledges our presence beyond staring after us. It’s like I get clearance to move past just by being with him.
A door swings open at the edge of the ring, revealing a much smaller room with the same sandy floor and general feel, but without the space for spectators. This room, however, is empty until we enter.
The doors slam closed behind me, causing me to jump and spin around. My heart rate spikes when I realize I’m trapped alone in a ring with Ziv, and he’s most likely going to make this hurt.
ZIV
It wasn’t my intention to bring Briar into my private training room, but it’s the only place my feet would carry me after entering the main gym, where there are too many eyes to observe our every move. If Syrinx asks, I’ll tell her I don’t want all the others to know just how unprepared Briar is to be here, but I doubt I will be able to conceal our bond much longer anyway, even if I do manage to hold off completing it.
Her eyes are wide when she turns to face me. I doubt I would be exaggerating if I said she looks like she thinks I’m about to attack her. She slowly begins to back away from me as if the small distance will help. There is no distance that could save her, or anyone else, if I wanted them dead.
“You said you were good at running. Let me see it.” Proving she’s smart, she takes off in a mad dash without me having to tell her twice. I wasn’t prepared for my own instincts to kick in to give chase, and I have to stop myself from covering the space between us and taking her down to the sand the moment she sprints away. My heart begins thundering in my chest with the demand to do something. I settle back on my heels and take in the adrenaline coursing through my blood. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt the thrill of a hunt, or of any kind for that matter.
She’s not slow, but I wouldn’t say running will be an asset to her either. Most of the other novices would easily catch her, or they would just wait until she tired herself out, which wouldn’t take long. She’s already slowing and making the mistake of looking over her shoulder to see where I am.
When she looks forward again, I shift so I’m standing right in front of her. Her face registers shock before she slams into my chest. I bow my back to soften the blow for her as much as I can and wrap my arms around her back and head to absorb her rebound, making sure she doesn’t fall to the ground. Damn, she feels tiny in my arms. On instinct, I loosen my hold for fear of hurting her, although the softness of her breasts against me can’t be ignored, nor the way she’s panting.
“That was…like running…into a brick wall.”
