I won’t take away from the fact she’s been trained and is a fearsome fighter who never gives up, but a disservice was done to her, and I assume the others in her training group.
They were only taught handfuls of positions and maneuvers. I’ve observed those fuckers, Mellcom, Jeremiah, as well as Garish, the other who came from Oddian. They all fight the same.
Her training serves her well and will continue to, but she has to learn, Oblirians and any other beings who want to kill us don’t follow a routine or regimen. They fight like their lives are on the line.
She has to learn that as well.
“I’m going to have to train her alone so she doesn’t fall behind and she learns everything she needs to know. This is going to be too distracting.”
“Alone? I don’t know how I feel about that.”
I can’t help the sneer that comes across my face. “Are you saying I can’t trainmyBinder alone because she’s your…what the fuck ever?”
He holds my glare for a moment before a massive smile splits through his devious lips. When he pats my shoulder, I know he did that shit on purpose.
“Nah, I don’t care. I just wanted to see if Amick was right.”
“Fuck you and him.”
“Okay, come on, Creed.”
My head whips toward Thayla’s teasing tone and my eyes narrow on her as she tosses and twirls a sword around.
“Come on what?”
“They’ve declared they want to see me spar, and you’ve been elected my opponent. Kyzen’s far too sweet for me to beat on.”
“Is that so?” I arch a brow at his pleased chuckle.
Little does she or they know, he’s far deadlier with a sword than me.
“Yep. Come take this ass whooping like a champ.”
It takes everything in me to hold back my snort.
“Get in position.”
Despite her irritatingly addictive smirk, she inhales deeply when I step into her space. That pleases me to no end, but I hide my grin by walking around her, only having to tap her thigh lightly once to correct her stance.
“Perfect.” I crowd in behind her. “I’m not going to go easy on you just because your little friends are watching. I know what you’re capable of.”
“I’d be offended if you did.”
With no other warning, she spins on her heel and strikes out. My sword comes up instinctively and blocks her, but that doesn’t deter her from keeping it coming.
I meet her strikes with clean blocks, watching her every move. Every turn of her feet, rotation of her shoulder. Her gracefulness is so contradictory to the fierce concentration on her face.
As she swings out, I spin behind her, raising my sword to tap her on her shoulder and declare my victory. She surprisingly whirls around just as fast and knocks me away.
When our weapons clash again, I crowd her. “Very good, Thayla. That transition was fast. Flawless.”
Her eyes widen as she shoves herself away, then launches a quick trio of strikes at my shoulder, thigh, and ribs. I block each, but it takes focus that both surprises and enthralls me.
“Good girl, keep them coming.”
Her one-handed swing hesitates just the slightest bit and I seize my opportunity.
My arm shoots out, and I grip her wrist, then twist it back. Not enough to do any damage but enough her sword falls from her limp hand and a pissed off grunt falls from her lips.
