Page 54 of When Wishes Bleed

I wouldn’t use magic just yet. I wanted to see how well I shot without it. I fumbled with the arrow and string, and again when I tried to hold it still while pulling the string back. The arrow swung to the side, so I had to start over. “There. Got it,” I announced, when I finally held the arrow on the string and drew it back.

The target had a nautilus shell on it. No, not a shell… a map of the kingdom. I hoped he’d brought a spare for me. I found Thirteen. My eyes traced the spiral of the Kingdom to its heart, where the palace lay. “Strike true,” Tauren encouraged.

I squinted, trying to align the tip with the tiny square palace on the map… and then I let go.

The arrow did not strike true. It soared wildly over the target and embedded into a nearby cedar. I straightened my back. “It appears I need some practice.”

“The tree doesn’t mind,” he answered with a wink.

“Let’s see how well you can shoot,” I challenged.

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

His motions could only be described as effortlessly fluid. He took an arrow, nocked it on the string, and pulled back and fired, all in one movement. The arrow struck the map, clinging to his target. It didn’t pierce the palace; it was embedded into the target in the exact spot where we stood.

I stared at him, mouth agape.

“I can show you how, if you’d like,” he offered.

I could tell he wasn’t boasting, and his demeanor was humble, not haughty. I wasn’t sure if I should accept, but had to admit I wanted to learn. I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance with a teacher as skilled as Tauren.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

He searched the arrows for one he felt was suitable. I wasn’t sure what the difference was or why it mattered. If you could fire one arrow, couldn’t you fire any of them?

Sensing the question in my eyes, he offered, “This arrow’s shaft is straight and its feathers are perfectly spaced, which means it’s well balanced.” He let the shaft balance on his finger, the tip and feathered end teetering for a moment before going still. “Take up your bow,” he instructed.

He showed me how to nock the arrow. I repeated it clumsily a few times, but managed to copy his motions.

“When you aim…” he started, sliding up behind me. He positioned my arm and shoulder that held the string back. Then with his foot, he eased my legs farther apart. “Relax your muscles. You’re too tense.”

I smiled, biting back a smart remark.

He was so close his chest brushed my back, and if he thought I was tense before, I wondered if he could feel how rigid my body was as he leaned against me. “Now,” he said, putting his hand over mine on the bow, “you want to aim just below where you want the arrow to land.” His stubble grazed my cheek and his scent surrounded me. Masculine. Clean. Completely, uniquely his. I swallowed thickly. “Because when you aimed the last time, you overshot.”

“Won’t I undershoot if I aim lower?”

He smiled. “Try it.” As he stepped away, I missed the warmth his body provided.

I aimed just below the palace and let go of the string. The arrow wobbled through the air, embedding into the target stand’s wooden leg.

“Better,” Tauren said proudly.

“Your turn.” I motioned to his target, wondering if his next shot would be better than the last.

He took up his bow, selected an arrow, and fired it… and the arrow landed on the map, striking the palace itself.

I laughed. “You can’t do that again.”

It was too perfect.

“What would you wager that I could?”

“What would a prince want from a witch?” I teased with a grin.

“A kiss,” he answered confidently, as if he knew exactly what he wanted.

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