But fighting from a tyger’s back was not the elegant, heroic art the warriors made it seem.
It was fast and unforgiving.
We rode in a wide, open training field, marked by rings and targets. The others took turns charging at full speed, striking with lances, swords, or whips, their movements fluid and powerful.
Jace wielded his lance with deadly precision, while Blake’s strikes sent up bursts of dust and splintered wood as he destroyed target after target.
Malissa used twin swords, her movements fast and exact, carving through the heavy dummies without hesitation.
And me? I was an unmitigated disaster.
The sword was too heavy. The lance even worse. My fingers ached just trying to keep a grip. Every time I lifted a weapon, it threw me off-balance, nearly unseating me. Flame tried to compensate, shifting smoothly beneath me, but there was only so much she could do. And I was so sore.
Ire was all brute power on the field, riding Wrath like a born warlord. His lance moved as a part of him, every strike precise and brutal, his tyger matching each motion in perfect sync.
Mid-charge, his eyes found mine. He shifted his grip, angling the lance toward me with a smirk. Slowly, deliberately, he aimed the tip at my chest. A threat.
I swallowed.
Then Wrath surged forward, and Ire destroyed the real target with one clean, merciless blow.
When I had to spar against Malissa, she barely moved her feet as she parried my strike with a single, effortless motion.
“This is pathetic,” she said, loud enough for the others to hear. “Do you enjoy embarrassing yourself?”
Flame snarled. My grip tightened. “I’m learning.”
Malissa arched one perfect brow. “Oh? Is that what you call it?” She stepped forward, fast enough to force me back. “Because from where I stand, it seems as if you’re fighting like a weakling, Azure.”
Heat crawled up my neck, but before I could react, she struck.
Her blade knocked mine clean from my hands, tossing me off Flame. A heartbeat later, the cold kiss of steel was at my throat.
Malissa leaned in just enough so I could hear her whisper: “You don’t belong here. And stay away from what’s mine.” She stalked away.
I stared after her a moment, her words sinking in. What was she talking about? Did she mean Blake?
Ire stepped toward me and extended a hand to help me up—blatantly ignoring Flame’s warning growls.
He loomed over me, waiting. I caught Blake’s gaze where he was supposed to be overseeing the other battles, though his eyes kept flickering to my circle.
“An Azure who trains with Silvers,” Ire said, pulling me to stand, then jostling me close. “Both you and that tygress of yours need to be controlled by a firm hand.” A pause. A slow, deliberate smirk as he looked me up and down. “Mine.”
I shuddered with revulsion.
To my surprise, Jace stepped forward in my defense. “Very well, Ire. I think we’ve all seen your battle prowess. Go.”
A few of the other warriors watched as Ire stalked away, his eyes promising revenge.
“How about you try me, Rubi?” Jace said, his voice playful. I smiled.
“Hand-to-hand this time. Let Flame rest and eat, someone will escort her back.”
I will not leave while you remain, Flame protested.
Dear one, thank you, but go. I must train so I don’t embarrass you.
I am rather magnificent, but so are you. On the inside, at least. Okay, you might have a point.
