All the delicious food I'd eaten for breakfast wriggled around brazenly in my stomach.
“Surely someone taller and larger would create a better demonstration for these techniques,” I argued.
Zevrial shook his head. “Not up for debate. We won’t be rucking during the demonstration. We’ll simply be showing the necessary positions and movements required to maneuver an opponent into a choke hold. It’ll be simpler to demonstrate on someone with less mass.”
Glowering at him changed nothing. I was still on the smaller side of all of the trainees, maybe the fifth shortest person present, and I doubted anyone in that lucky bunch would volunteer. I cast a beseeching look toward Sarina, who avoided my gaze.
Traitor.
Zevrial was easily a head taller than me, and fifty pounds or so heavier with pure muscle. He was built like a fighter, whereas I was built like a dancer. This was going to be unpleasant on a lot of different levels. Mainly for my pride, secondarily for my limbs and bones.
At least everyone else had front seats to a good show.
Sheer force of discipline allowed me to move forward until I was standing across from him, eyeing his hands warily.
Some primitive female part of me wanted those hands on me. It made no logical sense, and it was infuriating.
“Our first pose.” He leaned in, grabbing my arm and tugging it toward his chest while we faced opposite directions. He pulled my hand toward the open gap in his shirt’s neckline. Skin met skin. From this close, I could make out the barest curving edge of the glyph we shared. “I'll be demonstrating an arm grab.”
His heartbeat thumped under my hand, steady like a metronome. A quick glance to his face revealed nothing. It didn't make him feel any less like a threat. If anything, his ability to conceal his intentions made him more of one.
I tried tugging my arm back but he wrapped his other arm around mine. My breath hitched. His skin was deliciously warm.
Before I could react, he swept around behind me, using the limits of my arm's ability to extend backwards as an anchor to pin me in place while he wrapped his other arm around my neck.
And once again, his front was pressed entirely up against my backside.
Why was there suddenly not enough air?
His heart was racing against my spine. Then again, so was mine.
Wait a second, was his heart beating in time with mine? I tried to focus.
“—And by swinging ‘round behind an opponent, you can leverage their arm to get them into a choke hold.”
Sucking in a quick breath as he released me, I lost my concentration. He gave me a knowing look, and the tiniest grin.
“Our next demonstration will be a double leg takedown.”
Without even giving me a chance to level out my breathing, he rushed me. I darted to the side but he was faster. He grabbed me on either side of my thighs and lifted me off the ground. My eyes widened.
For two wild seconds I was airborne.
Gravity rearranged itself as I went down.
Oh shi—
My back hit the ground with a thud. I grunted on impact, momentarily stunned. Zevrial had managed to swing around behind me as I fell, his arm wedged underneath my head to absorb the shock. It was almost considerate.
Nah.
It was probably to prevent a concussion.
Before I could right myself again, Zevrial's other arm wrapped around my neck. His breath brushed across my ear. He smelled like rain and summer nights.
“You should take better care of yourself, Lisia,” he whispered, stiff stubble scraping against my jaw.
I laid there, too dazed to respond, as he held the pose for a few more taunting seconds before releasing me.
