Page 51 of Dark Angel

Kora’s eyes flicker to meet Jordan’s warm ones.

Matthew quips, “She might mop the floor with you as well.”

Jordan sneers, “I always like a challenge.” Winking at her.

Kora’s teeth press against her bottom lip before she smiles at him. “Come on, then.”

Leading him into one of the empty training rooms, Jordan strolls over to the wall at the back and picks up multiple daggers, placing them in his thigh and waist sheaths. He’s used to carrying his own weapons, but training with some provided by the Ascendancy adds some variety. They all differ in weight, size and shape. Each are silver in colour, simmering under his touch with angelic energy.

Kora wants a few for herself, even though her mother’s blade is already in her hand, waiting to be used.

Reaching for a dagger, Jordan’s hand brushes hers and she pulls back, as if their contact burnt her skin. Swallowing, she goes to grab another when Jordan snatches it from the shelf. His hand grabs a hold of her belt loop, pulling her closer against him. He slides the dagger into her waist sheath with ease, his gaze never leaving hers.

“More?” he questions, a brow arching.

“No.” Her voice is unsteady from their close proximity.

A faint grin surfaces as he licks his bottom lip and walks into the centre of the room, waiting for her to join him.

Kora didn’t realise she was holding onto her breath until she exhales slowly. Her skin tingling all over like tiny pin prickles titillating her flesh. Pulse racing in her veins, she comes to stand opposite him.

She takes a moment to study him. Kora’s been this close to him before, but the sensation is stronger, like her body longs to be against his. Jordan’s dressed in his black training clothes. Golden hair gleaming under the artificial lights. A defined, chiselled jaw line andvisible muscles outlined even through the fabric of his short-sleeved shirt. Cerulean eyes like the sea during summer on a cloudless day.

Holding up her blade at the ready, his eyes track her movements carefully. Pulling two daggers from his own sheaths, one in each hand, his gaze never falters from hers. Jordan positions himself in his fighting stance-right leg forward in preparation.

Kora follows suit, steadying herself with her blade outstretched in front of her as the other clutches a smaller dagger facing outwards. Her lids narrow onto his as Jordan cracks a smirk.

“Are you ready, Miss Hamilton?” his masculine voice slicing the tension in the room like a knife.

With a nod, her eyes glance over his features. Kora notices the small white scar sitting just above his right eyebrow, running through the hairs and onto his temple. His cheek dimples are deep and charming. His light lashes frame his bright eyes, and the small bow in his lip makes them even more enticing.

Kora waits for him to move before she strikes out. They both stare each other down like predator on predator.

Jordan swallows, his apple bobbing momentarily in his throat. Not from fear, but more from intrepid confidence.

Without warning, Jordan lunges out, swinging one of his daggers at her. Within seconds, Kora has rolled out of the way and moved to the other side of the room.

Jordan spins as her blade comes down on him. His arm thrusts up, then his dagger hits her weapon.

The crashing of metal sounds the room. Kora pushes against Jordan’s energy as he pushes down on the blade.

Pressing against him, Kora manages to slide out from underneath his body. Jordan’s dagger collides with the floor and splits. He growls, kicking it into the corner of the room and grabbing another one from his many sheaths.

Kora is standing again, her blade up and ready for him to attack her. His arm reaches back and he releases a dagger. It flies towardsKora, who ducks out of the way just in time. It narrowly misses her face, embedding into the wall behind her.

Before Jordan can reach for another blade, Kora rushes up to him and slides along the ground, kicking his leg out so that he falls to his knees.

Scrambling to her feet, Jordan is already standing again, his hands both gripping knives.

Kora lets out a soft grunt as she races towards him, determined to strike him or pin him down. A knife comes at her, and she twists and turns her body to avoid being stabbed. Her blade comes down, slicing a neat thin line along the outside of his leg.

Jordan looks down in surprise.

Bright red blood rises to the surface of his skin and spreads into the fabric of his dark trousers. He swears to himself calmly and looks to Kora. It’s not a deep cut, probably one that will heal within the hour.

“Sorry.” She says with a faint grin.

He stares at her.

---