Page 22 of House of Lilith

But I don’t take my eyes away from the shield behind him. I lift my finger to my lips, shushing him as my mind starts exploding with the realization.

And I jump to my feet and I get moving again.

Because it’s finally hit me, what the Game is.

*

I’m trying to focus, but the goddamn alpha is making it really hard. I’m in a low crouch on top of one of the shields, my legs spread as wide as they can be, my forearms resting on my knees lightly as I keep my eyes peeled on the strip of air between this one and the shield right across it. If I’m fast enough, I should be able to do it, easy.

There’s only the matter of the asshole messing with my concentration ever since I bumped into him. I felt him follow me until I found the next target. I saw him watch when I leapt up into the air and ran over the ball in as wide a circle as I could, to check whether it had a blind spot.

And now, once I’ve made sure it really can’t detect me when I’m positioned above it, now he’s standing there, waiting for my next move like a hawk. But to make things even worse, he’s leaned against the shield with his arms casually crossed, as if this is some kind of movie night for him.

Fucker.

I shrug it off and keep waiting, every muscle in my body tense with anticipation. I still can’t believe I thought the shields were just obstacles for the players. And I can’t keep track of what’s going around me, except register, now and then, a distant explosion or scream or whipping sound or the like. But I know I’m right, I just know it.

And not just because of what popped into my head when I saw the ball do everything in its powernotto collide with the shield. The section in that book on Nature Magic about this special kind of metal that loses all magic charge when it comes into contact with the earth. It’s also because of, well, a gut feeling.

So when I finally see a ball buzzing towards me, I have to force myself to keep it together, to keep my breathing and my mind and my body steady.

And just as it’s about to whiz past, I move as if I’ll jump down, grab onto the top of the shield with my hands and catch the ball tightly between my thighs. It instantly starts thrashing like crazy, making me grit my teeth with effort, but I keep it pressed firmly and unforgivingly against the stone from which I’m hanging.

For one long moment, the ball keeps thrashing, putting such strain on my muscles, it feels as if they’re tearing.

But then it stops, suddenly and totally, and I exhale and I relax my muscles a little, letting the ball drop to the ground.

I do the same, already picturing sending it flying through the goal post.

But when my boots hit the ground and I push myself up, I find myself face to face with the goddamn alpha. He’s smiling, his arms still folded in that annoyingly casual way.

My eyes narrow. I throw the quickest glance down to the ground and see he’s got my ball trapped under his boot.

“That’smine,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you have it,” he says in that smooth, easy voice of his.

I frown. “What’re you talking about?”

He motions back to where I slammed into him. “Don’t even remember?” he asks in a teasing voice. “Breaks my heart.”

“Fine, I’m sorry,” I drawl, the delay getting me more annoyed by the second. Then I shoot him a mocking look. “Sorry you’re such a snowflake.”

And I gesture for him to get the fuck away from my ball, but he just asks, “Something wrong with snowflakes?”

I let out a frustrating breath. “Not very challenging to beat. Now get off my fucking ball.”

Apart from his smile growing wider, he straight-up ignores that last bit. “Beat? Who saysIwouldn’t beatyou?”

“Ido.”

His eyes narrow, and it’s with a knowing smile that he whispers, “What, you only let princes do that, Shadowscape girl?”

It feels like a slap across the face.Andit means he knows who I am.

“Well,” he starts as he leans a little closer, but doesn’t let go of my ball, “I’m definitelynotone, but I have a feeling I’d be more fun to be beatenby.”

His voice is seriously hot, but the tone is intentionally seductive as well. I frown. Is he fucking hitting on me? Right here in the Ring? And he’s convinced I won’t be able to resist him, I can tell by the look in his eyes. It makes me so pissed, I decide I won’t let this slide without at least a pinch of humiliation.

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