Page 93 of The Fifth Heir

“Hands up.”

I put on the gloves and raised my fists.

He stepped closer.

“No.”

“You say that often.”

“Because you do things wrong often.”

“I’ve been standing here for less than a minute.”

“And your stance is already trying to injure you.”

He nudged my right foot wider with the side of his boot. “Your hips are square. Turn.”

I adjusted.

“Not that far.”

He put one hand at my waist.

He came around behind me rather than reaching across my injured side. His other hand hovered near my right shoulder, close enough to guide but careful not to touch.

The restraint was somehow more distracting than contact would have been.

Heat passed through the fabric of my uniform.

The terrace runes turned gold again.

Torren removed his hand.

“You’re doing that deliberately,” he said.

“I am not controlling the walls.”

“You’re controlling the reason they react.”

My face warmed. “You touched me.”

“To correct your stance.”

“And they reacted.”

“So did you.”

The gold deepened.

I turned my hips without his help. “Like this?”

His gaze moved over my stance, slower than before.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Your hands are still wrong.”