Page 50 of Fire of the Fox

“I want to gauge how much work you’ll need. It’s fine. I’m giving you permission.”

“Rune, that’s—”

“Punch me!”

Biting my lip, I fidgeted. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but then again, if part of my self-defense training was going to be sparring, I’d have to get used to throwing punches at him. Taking a deep breath, I reared my fist back before slamming it hard into his bicep. Pain instantly flared behind my knuckles, as well as in the palms of my hand due to the claws. I realized too late that I may have gone a bit overboard.

“Shit,” I mumbled. “That was too hard. I’m so sorry.”

He blinked once, then twice. Looking at his arm, then back at me, he laughed. “That’s it? I told you not to hold back. It’s really fine. Punch me like you mean it.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? That was my punch.”

His smile fell. “Are you serious?”

Now my guilt was turning into something red hot that tasted bitter like anger. Narrowing my eyes at him, I drew my hand back again and swung it even harder at his arm. He didn’t flinch, while I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out.

He gave a low whistle and turned on his heel. “Okay. So, gym first, training later. You clearly need to build some upper body strength.”

Offended, I went to make a retort, but deep down, I knew he was right. I wasn’t toned for fighting. It was no wonder he laughed at my punches.

We met the others back in the living room. Avana changed me back to my human-looking self, which felt just as bizarre as it had the first time. Then it was off to Hell, or as Rune liked to call it, the gym.

Chapter Twenty-One

MY BICEPS ACHED as I threw another hard punch at the focus mitts Rune wore. Sweat beaded my brow, and my breathing came out fast and heavy. Fatigue settled into the muscles of my arms, and before long, I felt my swings getting less and less powerful. Rune’s concentrated stare, no doubt, read the tired look on my face, and there was no missing my weakened hits.

I swung again, and as soon as I made contact with the mitt, Rune swung the other one at my middle. I was supposed to dodge the attack as we’d practiced for the past two days, but I was too slow. He hit me right in the gut, just hard enough that it didn’t hurt but did make my legs give out from exhaustion. I fell backward and landed hard on my butt. My body rejoiced at the feeling of resting, so I laid back, shut my eyes, and worked to calm my ragged breathing.

“Are you okay?” Rune asked. His shadow fell over my face, and I knew if I opened my eyes, I’d find him hovering over me.

“I’m—” I gasped, “dying. Welcome … to my … funeral.”

He chuckled, and I opened my eyes at the warm sound. He flopped down beside me and leaned back on his hands. His long, white hair was in a ponytail at the base of his neck, but a few strands had fallen loose across his forehead. I tried not to focus on how sexy he was when he looked this way or how it made my insides curl tightly with heat.

“You’re not dying,” he said. “You’re doing a really good job actually, and it will get easier the more you use those muscles and improve your techniques.”

“When exactly will it get easier?”

“That depends on you.”

I took a deep breath and shook my head where it rested against the blue mats. “I don’t think I can handle this.”

“Yes, you can.”

Rune grabbed my arms and pulled until I was forced to sit up.

I turned so that we sat directly across from each other with our knees barely touching.

He didn’t let go of my arms. Instead, his palms traveled down my forearms, over my wrists, and settled in my hands. A euphoric buzz immediately erupted in my stomach at the intimate gesture. Rune and I didn’t touch skin to skin too often, but when we did, it elicited such a warm feeling inside of me, one that could only be described as desire.

Rune’s golden eyes held mine as he said, “I know it’s hard right now, but you can do it. You’ve faced down knife-wielding criminals and stood your ground against a Fae like me. If anyone can do this, it’s you. Believe in yourself, because I know I do.”

Emotion clogged my throat. His words, his encouragement, his belief in me were something precious. They made me feel empowered, and the doubt inside me finally started to seep away.

“You really think I can do it?”

“Of course. Your punch has already improved. It doesn’t tickle anymore.”

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