Page 43 of King of Fire and Flames

And I wouldn’t stop fighting until he killed me.

I ran up a tree stump and leaped, flying toward him, my dagger aimed at his chest. He pivoted, narrowly evading my blade, and countered with a fierce spin and a strike that sent me reeling. He could’ve killed me then, but he hadn’t.

Why was he holding back?

The answer struck me like a bolt of the Storm King’s lightning. He was a bored desert cat, and I was the scurrying mouse. A bit of fun. He could play this game forever.

I barely blocked his next attack, my dagger quivering under the force of his strength. This close, he could snap me in two without breaking a sweat. With a brief flex of muscle, his body could crush mine. Part of me wished he’d hurry up and do it and put us both out of our misery.

But instead of ending it, he stared and stared as his breath panted out and the depths of his deceit hit me. Arrow had no intention of killing me.

So who was he trying to fool with his act of violence—me or Azarn?

Ferocious screeches echoed in the distance, the sound growing closer. The dragons. Fuck.

I craned my neck and looked up. Two black creatures flew above, their breath scorching the treetops with each pass.

Arrow’s wings appeared, flaring wide above his shoulders like protective armor.

“Is that allowed?” I asked. “Azarn prohibited the use of magic.”

A smirk tilted his lips. “I’m not using magic to fight you. I’m protecting us from the greivon beasts. They don’t obey rules and are likely to swoop you off and decorate their den with your bones.”

“And we can’t have them taking your fun away, can we?”

His eyes darkened further. “That’s one way to put it, Princess.”

“Come on. Ignore them and fight me,” I said, dropping into a crouch and circling around him through the ferns. “Let’s finish this.”

He shook wet hair from his eyes and adopted a defensive stance, studying my every move, but not making any of his own.

Branches and twigs cracked beneath my boots, and growls rumbled from the sky.

“Stop moving,” he commanded, and I obeyed. “There’s a fire hole to your left. Move into the clearing with me. There’s no danger here.”

“Other than from you.”

He breathed a laugh through his nose. “Do you really believe that?”

“Let’s find out, shall we? Stop holding back you winged ass and fight me. Otherwise, Azarn will kill us both.”

“As you wish,” he said, spinning then lunging forward. In four quick movements, he had me pressed against the rough bark of a giant tree trunk, his breath stirring strands of my hair and his blade’s edge kissing my throat.

Despite his labored breathing, I knew he wasn’t tired; far from it.

I fought like a demon against his hold as he maneuvered my free arm behind me, using his weight to keep it trapped. Then he seized my other wrist in an iron grip, preventing me from striking him.

Unhinged fury burned through my blood as I scraped his lower leg with my boot. He held tight, forcing my surrender, but I bucked against him until he trapped my boot tips under his, immobilizing me.

No, he definitely wasn’t tired. The hardness that dug into my body told me exactly how much he enjoyed this. Power and control made him hot, just like it always had.

“I hate you,” I said, watching rain slide down his cheeks like tears.

“I know.”

Wind from the dragons’ wing beats tangled our hair together. Strands of dark gold and dirt brown, the sight making me sick to my stomach.

The Storm King had won again, holding me captive, trapped, just the way he liked me. It was a pity I’d spent a delusional period of time in Coridon believing he actually cared about me.

---