Page 9 of Reign

I keep her under for one beat.

Two.

Pain explodes across my palm.

“Fuck—”

She bit me.

I rip my hand away and haul her back up.

She comes out gasping, wet hair plastered to her face, eyes blazing.

Before I can reset my grip, she launches at me, swinging wildly. She catches me off guard and drives us sideways into the grass.

“Adriana!”

She smacks me hard across the mouth.

I taste blood.

Well, damn.

I catch both her wrists before she can take out an eye, but she bucks and kicks, reaching for any part of me she can hurt.

“Stop,” I snap.

She spits at me. Actually spits.

Then snarls, “Get off of me.”

For one second, I almost do. Because this isn’t training.

It isn’t discipline.

It’s a child fighting me like I’m the enemy.

Maybe I am.

I loosen my grip just enough to see what she does.

Her fist cracks into my jaw. Her knee catches my ribs.

She twists free, but I catch her around the waist and take us down again.

By the time I get her flat on her back, both of us are breathing hard. Her knees are scraped bloody. There’s dirt on her cheek, grass in her hair, and blood on her mouth where she must’ve bitten it.

Yet no tears.

She glares up at me like she’d kill me if she could.

Something ugly settles in my chest.

Understanding.

I let her go and push back onto my heels. She scrambles away from me immediately, crab-walking backward through the grass, chest heaving.

I wait for it then.