Page 105 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

“It was an accident!” Embarrassment flushed onto Emara’s face. “I didn’t mean it.”

She had tried to throw a knife and it had slipped through her hand. Poor Marcus had just laughed it off when it had missed the target and clipped his ear.

She had felt terrible guilt over it.

However, she opted out of telling Gideon in case he insisted he was fit enough to train her.

Torin raised his eyebrow. “The poor man has been hunting demons since he could walk and he never has come so close to death.”

Humiliation burned up Emara’s face and down her neck. She knew he was taunting her to get a reaction. Of course Marcus had been in closer proximities to death. He was a Gods-damned Hunter. Trying her best not to give Torin a reaction, she trailed along the mats and put down her water bottle at the opposite end of the room. Then, she faced him with a scowl.

That she was not going to hide.

“So, here I am.” Torin swept his arms out like he was the star of a theatrical production, expecting the audience to have a standing ovation for his efforts. “Your new trainer.”

“Lucky me.”

Emara took the protection tape and tried to strap her hands like Gideon had shown her. Marcus had, too. But she still struggled to get the technique right. The material flapped around her hand loosely. Why could she never get it to strap properly? She shook her head in annoyance as she tried again, fighting back the urge to curse.

Torin’s muscular frame sauntered slowly across the mat. “Would you like me to help you with that, princess?” His eyes dazzled her as he pushed a mocking smile onto his face. A smile she would love nothing better than to punch.

“I would rather be eaten by a demon.” She tried one more time to strap the material with one hand.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart.” The corners of Torin’s mouthraised in amusement.

“Stop with the cute names!” She flung her hands out in protest, rolling her eyes. “They make me want to vomit.”

“Really?” his eyebrows scrunched together in question.

“Yes,” she snapped.

“You see, I have a theory...” He took graceful strides towards her, not taking his eyes from her face.

“Do you, now?”

“Anyone who says they don’t like being called pet names secretly like them deep down.”

“Oh? And what’s your pet name?” she scowled. She thought of many names to call him, none of which were considered endearing.

A sensual smile played along his lips. “Maybe you will find out.”

“I’d rather die.” she threw him a false smile, still flapping around with the tape.

He chuckled as he stepped closer—almost close enough to touch her. He grasped hold of her hands and took over with the wrapping.

“I can do it myself,” she demanded, but she didn’t struggle with him. Not when his large hands were all over hers, correcting the material.

He flicked a look up through his lashes. “Evidently not. I don’t have all day to sit here and watch you fumble about with a piece of material. Apparently, I have knives to dodge.” He couldn’t hold back his laugh as he saw the rage cross her face. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But teasing you has become one of my new favourite things.”

“No, you damn well shouldn’t laugh. Maybe next time I throw a knife, I won’t miss.” Her eyes met his in a challenging stare.

He let go of her wrists and they swung down to her sides. “I hope that’s the case.” His thin nose flared in amusement. “Let’s see what you can do, ponytail.” He turned and made his way to the door. “Follow me. We are not working here today.”

What?

They weren’t working in the training room?

“Where are we going?” she demanded to know.

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