“Feel my power and imagine yourself pushing it away. Literally shoving it. Your power may be as stubborn as you are, but it’ll protect you when you need it to.”
I try to do as he advises, but I can’t talk to my noncompliant power right now. If it had any intentions of helping me push away his power, it would’ve already. There isn’t a sign or tingle anywhere in me right now other than what his power is causing.
My eyes widen as I barely spin out of the way of his incoming sword. I put too much momentum behind myself, and with a perfectly timed leg sweep, he has me on my ass, panting as I stare up at the clouds.
“I could tell you were going to try to spin away from how you shifted your feet. Don’t give away your move. Use your size as an advantage. They’ll believe they can take you down. Let them close. Next time, you duck down. Then you strike. One swipe. Instant kill. Don’t hesitate.”
He holds his hand out to help me up and I should’ve slapped it away. The second his fingers wrap around my hand, I groan. Loudly.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, stepping away from me.
“No. On top of you spanking me, I’ve hit my ass a couple times today. I’m pretty sure it’s bruised.”
It’s not a complete lie, but I won’t be telling him his power feels glorious.
He curls his lips in as though he’s trying not to laugh at me. That shit, I swear, lights my soul on fire.
“Again. Fight me and my power off.”
I match him swing for swing, strike for strike. Whether it’s fists or swords, I keep up with him. I’m positive he’s taking it easy on me, and I can’t be bothered to complain or get mad about that.
There’s no fighting his power off. I can’t take on both sides of him. It’s distracting, tantalizing, and has my soul on the verge of snapping out of me and pouncing on his.
Just keeping it secure in my chest is a battle in and of itself.
I haphazardly swing my sword down toward him. With a pissy groan, he snatches my wrist, twirls me around, and pins my back to his chest. I suppress a shiver that desperately wants to escape me.
“What kind of attempt was that?”
My bones turn to jelly as I slouch against him. “Creed, this can’t be what power feels like when facing off with other gods. If so, I’m done for.”
His body tenses behind me, then he steps away. My arms flay out beside me as I try to catch my balance. I brace myself—my poor ass—for impact, but I never hit the ground.
His hands swoop under my armpits, and all his power gets sucked out of the air, stealing that delicious sensation right from my skin.
“I only pushed a little bit out, but no, other gods won’t be as painful. I didn’t realize I was hurting you or I would’ve pulled back more.”
My brows scrunch together as I turn to face him. He takes another tentative step away from me.
I stare at him, and his body language in utter confusion.
The…disappointment written across his face isn’t directed at me. There’s stress in his shoulders that wasn’t there a second ago and the veins in his arms are one more clenched fist away from bursting out of his skin.
“Creed, nothing about that was painful.”
His head jerks and his eyes narrow on me as he searches my face for the lie.
My face isn’t the only thing he searches.
The little sliver of soul in me becomes acutely aware of him feeling up and down the thread that lives in him. I breathe slowly to keep mine in check.
“I’m trying real hard here to respect your boundaries, so unless you want me to snatch the shit out of yours, you’ve got to stop doing that. I’m struggling to control my soul’s motives right now. Your power made it feel…alive. I couldn’t fight your power off because I was too busy fighting my soul to stay where it belongs in my chest.”
“Impossible.” He grunts.
“Are you trying to tell me what my soul is and isn’t doing?”
“No, I mean, yes, I could tell you. I know everything it does. I was saying impossible to how my power was making you feel. Any being weaker than you would’ve been screaming in agony. There’s no way you didn’t sense even the slightest discomfort.”
