Page 39 of Threaded

But it was nothing compared to the way Andrian moved. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his own arm, anticipating every move Feran handed him, easily blocking and twisting in the morning air. Despite his height, he moved with an animalistic grace, his movements a near blur. Suddenly, he dropped to the ground, Feran’s slash missing right over his head just as Andrian’s leg shot out, swiping at Feran and forcing him off his feet. Feran tumbled to the ground, losing his grip on his blades just as Andrian rose, pinning Feran where he lay, the tip of his sword touching the vulnerable skin of Feran’s throat.

Feran’s chest rumbled as if he were chuckling before he spoke to Andrian. Mariah was too far away to hear his words, but she saw the laugh on Feran’s lips as he extended a hand up, as Andrian lowered his sword and took it, pulling Feran to his feet.

A genuine smile then touched Andrian’s face. Mariah was nearly knocked sideways by the force of it. Not just because of how surprising and unusual it seemed … but of how inhumanlyattractiveAndrian looked in that moment. The twist of his lips lifted his defined cheekbones, the angle of his chin softening, his white teeth flashing against his tan skin.

What unfortunate thoughts to be having. There were six other men in this clearing to occupy her time with; there was no need to concern herself with thatprick.

But watching him there, in the clearing as he trained with Feran … He was so comfortable with his fellow Armature. He was almost a different man here: open, warm, inviting. A leader.

And with that thought, his gaze slid to hers, instantly finding where she stood hidden in the shadows of the woods at the edge of the clearing. Those tanzanite eyes hardened immediately, everything about him going tense, his easy comfort vanished.

Well,Mariah thought,I guess my spying is over.

She took a single, deep breath before stepping out of the trees and into the clearing.

The attention of the other six Armature snapped to her, their chatter instantly ceasing. Sebastian and Quentin halted mid-spar, the former not hesitating to step out of the sand pit and take a few steps toward her, a warm smile of greeting upon his handsome face.

Mariah met his smile with one of her own. “I hope I’m not intruding on anything.” She glanced around at the clearing, the weapon racks lining the edge, the sparring pit. “Although, I have to say, I’m a little disappointed I didn’t receive an invitation.”

Trefor, who stood closest to her leaning too-casually against a tree, was the first to speak. “My Qu-Mariah,” he corrected himself, grinning sheepishly. “Not that we aren’t glad to see you, but … what are you doing here?” His short blond hair was spiked with sweat, his pale cheeks flushed with color.

Mariah turned her smile to Trefor. “Well, I was just out for a morning run, but this is looking much more interesting.” She shot a glance around at all of her Armature, purposely avoiding a set of distracting blue eyes, and watched as amusement and curiosity sparked in their expressions. Sebastian was the next to speak, taking a few more steps in her direction, obvious confusion written on his face.

“Mariah … do you wish to train with us?”

Mariah met Sebastian’s stare, rolled her shoulders once, and stretched the muscles in her neck. “Yes. Why not? It’s been over a week. I wouldn’t want to get rusty.”

Sebastian’s confusion extended itself to the rest of her Armature as they darted their eyes to each other. “Maybe we could arrange a separate session where we can each dedicate time to work with you …” Quentin’s question faded as a shit-eating grin spread across Mariah’s face.

“Oh, Quentin. I don’t know you yet, and I’ll forgive you just this once because you don’t know me yet, either.” She paused. “But my father, a former special reserves fighter in the Queen’s Seventy-Seventh Legion, has been training me since the day I took my first step.” Leaning into … whatever it was she was doing, she turned from the group and pulled the hem of her tunic over her head in one smooth movement, dropping it to the ground beside her. She now wore only her tight undershirt, the thin material designed to wick away her sweat, its length cropped to just below her navel. The cold air felt refreshing on her burning skin, still hot from the frantic pace of her earlier run. She turned back to her Armature, meeting the gaze of the one with fire-red hair.

“Now, Quentin. Since you seem the most concerned with my training, I’d like you to get into this pit with me. I’m assuming your sparring with Sebastian was just a warmup?”

She moved forward and brushed past the gathered men, Quentin following after her, that same fiery grin back upon his face.

“What,exactly, are you wanting to do, Mariah?”

She knew the grin she threw him was more a baring of teeth than a true smile. “I want to spar.”

* * *

Sweat poured down her face, her lungs burned, and her teeth were still barred in that same grin as she circled Quentin, his red hair dark with sweat and his freckled skin flushed with exertion.

She knew he’d started off going easy on her, but the second she delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to his chest, sending him flying back on his ass, he’d woken up, fire dancing in his eyes.

She’d wondered, briefly, if the element lived in more than just his hair and gaze. If it ran in his veins, just as it ran in her brother’s.

Just as threads of light now lived in hers.

Since then, they traded blows evenly and regularly. She felt the attention of her Armature on her as she moved, an unfamiliar weight on her skin she didn’t mind. Quentin darted in, aiming a hook to her gut, but she dove out of his reach before driving her elbow into his side. He grunted, trying to twist, but she was one step ahead of him. Now behind him, she leaped onto his back with a nimble jump, one leg swinging around his neck. Her sudden weight and the momentum twisted him off balance, and they dropped instantly to the ground. In a heartbeat, he was beneath her, lying facedown in the sand, her knee pressed against his shoulder blade. She leaned her head down and whispered into his ear.

“If you tap out now, I promise I’ll teach you that move.”

Quentin’s bottle green eyes darted up to hers in a joking glare, pausing only a few heartbeats before patting the ground beside him twice. Shit-talking chuckles arose from the rest of her Armature as Mariah stood up, letting Quentin go. She was still breathing heavily as she walked to her discarded tunic, wiping the sweat off her brow.

Quentin stood up and quickly dusted himself off before following her out of the pit, giving her shoulder a playful shove. “You weren’t kidding, girl. That was impressive.” He froze suddenly, obviously worried he’d pushed it too far.

No matter how impressed he might be with her, she was still his queen.

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