I keep my distance, sweeping my feet in a constant arc that stops us from getting too close and moving in one direction and then the next. As he takes a step towards me, I move back by an equal distance. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier that won’t let him get any closer to me. Or perhaps that’s just my common sense finally intervening.
‘Are we going to dance like this all day?’ he purrs, his voice sending a quake down into the depths of my bones. ‘You’ll never get rid of me this way.’
‘I’m just biding my time,’ I growl back, my voice almost as low as his in an attempt to disguise the twist in the pit of my stomach.
With a surge of determination, I feint left then pivot, raising my elbow towards his jaw, but he catches me by the shoulder and spins me round, pressing my back against his chest. A gasp rattles from my lungs that’s not entirely due to the impact. I’m not sure if it’s my pulse or his that I can feel pounding through me. Either way, I struggle to draw breath. My body is desperate to see what it would find if I pressed myself into his hips, but I swallow back the urge, cursing my own insanity.
‘I think you got it wrong the other night, Thorn,’ he whispers against the shell of my ear, the warmth of his breath spreading like molten metal down my spine. ‘I didn’t want you to be a distraction. You are the distraction.’
Whatever game he’s playing with me, I’m starting to think it’s just as dangerous as the Retterheld itself. But, just like the gifting, I don’t intend to lose.
I tilt my head up towards him and part my lips slightly as if I’m going to speak … only to swing my elbow up, ready to drive it into his jaw. But he sees it coming.
He twists me around so that I’m facing him and pins my arms across my body as he holds me effortlessly in place. My eyes snap to his because I don’t trust myself to look straight ahead. And certainly not to look down.
‘You are the reason I can’t think. Can’t sleep. Can’t stop imagining the way it would feel if it was my fingers and not my power doing this.’
He lets the static run free again, though this time, it’s on the inside of my thigh. My body melts, craving the sensation, and his hips shift towards me. The movement is so minuscule that I doubt anyone else would even notice. But I do. I feel the pressure. He’s hard. Fighting me, holding me, has him hard. And it’s enough to make me slick.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek until I feel the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. It’s the only thing I can do to stop myself from moaning. Shit, from begging.
I need to get a grip. I wrench my arms free and slam my hands against his chest, pushing myself away.
‘See what I mean?’ he groans. ‘You are the distraction.’
‘I’m okay with that,’ I say, sliding my feet across the sand as I move further away from him, keeping my eyes on his.
I go low, aiming for a shot that will really hurt, especially in his current situation, but he anticipates the move and grabs me under the shoulders, flipping me over his back and slamming me into the sand.
Pain sears up through me at the impact. My bones throb from the force, yet a moment later, the pain has gone, swallowed entirely by the fact that Kyor is straddling me, his full weight pushing down into me and those icy eyes locked on mine.
Dryness fills my throat as I struggle to move. To want to move.
I try to push up, but all that does is drive his weight further into me. It’s no accident that he’s pinning me down by my hips.
‘Ready to give in?’ he murmurs, and I know we’re not just talking about the fight.
‘Not going to happen,’ I say through gritted teeth. I need to focus. I need to win the gifting. If I’m his distraction, then he is no less mine, but where he can afford it, I can’t. Not when I’ve made it this far.
‘No? Then how about this?’ he growls. ‘Tell me you wanted me to stay. Tell me it crossed your mind, even if it was just for a split second. Tell me you wanted to lock that door and let me do all those filthy things I’ve imagined doing to you. Say that and I’ll let you go. I think that’s fair.’
Fair? Nothing about this is fair. I’m pinned to the ground by the son of the man who destroyed my family, and all I can think about is not moaning. Not showing him how much my body wants him.
‘The thought didn’t cross my mind,’ I lie boldly.
‘Really? So if I turn up tonight – sober – and pin you to the wall, telling you I want to make your body writhe with pleasure, it won’t cross your mind to let me stay? If I tell you I want to run my tongue across you until you lose every shred of restraint, you’ll say you don’t want that either? If I whisper every filthy thought I’ve had of you into your ear until you beg me to make them real, you’ll push me away? Tell me, Thorn … tell me you don’t want to feel me stretching you from the inside.’
I’m soaked, dripping in a way I never knew I could. But when that Godsdamn smug smirk rises on his face, reality hits me. This power he’s got over me – not the sparks he cascades over my skin, but his words that send me into a near frenzy? I can play that game too.
He’s not joking when he says I’m the distraction, and I need to use that. Not be afraid of it.
‘That’s what you’re thinking about now, right? Isn’t it?’ I murmur, deepening my breath so that it’s close to heaving. ‘Right now, you’re imagining what you’d like to do to me. Or maybe you’re thinking about the way I watched as you pulled your shirt up over your head. How you pinned me against the wall. Or how you moaned.’
‘From what I remember, you were the one moaning,’ he says huskily.
‘Really? Maybe I’ll have to rectify that next time.’
‘Next time?’ I hear the hitch in his voice, and I know I’ve got him. Without so much as a pause for breath, I move.
Boom.
I slam my elbow straight into his side, landing the blow an inch above his stitches.
He gasps, shifting away from me, his eyes flashing as I kick him off me and stand to stare down at his now supine body.
‘That was a low blow,’ he growls, though his eyes flash with something close to respect. He sits upright and presses his fingers to the wound, checking to see if he’s bleeding.
‘I trust my stitching,’ I say when his fingers come back clean. ‘Now, I believe we’re done here.’
In one sweeping moment, he’s on his feet. ‘I think you’ll find the condition was to draw blood,’ he growls, his eyes glinting. ‘Like you said, your stitches are good.’
‘And I think you should check your neck.’
He moves his fingers up to the place where the very tip of my knife nicked the thinnest line on his skin at the same moment my elbow struck him. A small droplet colours his fingertips, and when he looks back at me, it’s a genuine smile gracing his lips, not a smirk.
‘Well, then. We’re done for now.’ Still looking absurdly proud, he turns, picks up his shoes, and walks away without another word.
I’m still standing there with my pulse hammering when Llinos races back towards me.
‘Okay, that’s enough training. We’re all trained out.’ She grabs my arm as she hauls me in the direction of the dorms. ‘You and I are going to have a serious conversation. Now.’
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Chapter 46
‘Idon’t know what’s wrong with me,’ I tell Llinos as we walk into the dining room later that evening. ‘It’s some screwed-up physical attraction thing. You know, it’s just a case of “can’t have, therefore want.” It’s a weird physical crush, that’s all.’
Llinos grins back at me. ‘Rosey, honey, you’ve said that phrase about a hundred times today. Who are you trying to kid? I mean, I don’t mean to be funny or anything, but why the hell not go there? That fight was beautiful. Imagine what it’s gonna be like when you’re fucking.’
She says the word ‘imagine’ like I haven’t done that way too often for my own good. I groan. ‘I can’t get distracted. Two trials left and then the Ofur. Besides, he’s the heir to the throne, and I’m a slum rat.’