Page 48 of Untamed

I shake my head. Silence follows, broken only by her sharp inhale. Then, finally, she sighs, biting her bottom lip as she considers.

“Fine. But no weird power-trip bullshit, okay? Just show me what to do. Please,” she amends.

I give her a half smile. “Whatever you say, little queen.”

We clear a space in her tiny living room—not that there’s much room to clear. I shrug off my jacket, toss it onto her couch, and roll up my sleeves. I don’t miss the way she watches me warily, her hands twitching like she’s ready to defend herself already.

When I point to the space in front of me, a shadow crosses her features. “Come here.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Good,” I say, my voice taut. “Trusting me would be stupid.”

“You make no sense.”

“You’re a walking contradiction yourself, and I don’t have time for games. Now comehere.”

Jesus, my palm itches to smack her ass.

Reluctantly, she steps into my space, standing stiff as a board. “Now what?”

“First lesson: confidence,” I say, moving behind her. She jumps slightly when my hands settle on her hips—not tight, but firm enough to reposition her. I love the way her hips feel under my touch, warm and supple.

Christ.I bring myself back to our lesson with effort.

“Never look vulnerable. Stand up straight.”

She exhales sharply, her shoulders rising. “Like this?”

“Better,” I murmur, my voice quieter now. I step back to study her stance. “Relax.”

“Hard to relax when you’re supposed to be trusting yet not trusting your fake Bratva boyfriend while being confident and not vulnerable yet relaxed. Am I supposed to be turned on? Angry? On edge?”

I huff out a quiet laugh while I walk in front of her. “Yes. Now. Hit me.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “What?”

“Hit me,” I repeat, spreading my arms. “Come on, Ember. You want to fight? Show me what you’ve got.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Crazy, ridiculous, insane. I’ve heard worse. You need to learn.” When she doesn’t, I egg her on. “You afraid of me? You can’t do it?”

Before she can argue, I grab her wrist—not hard, just enough to startle her. She gasps, her body stiffening as I hold her still.

“What do you do now?” I ask, my voice a low rumble.

Her lips part, but no words come. She pulls at her wrist, trying to yank free, but I don’t let go.

“Wrong,” I say softly, loosening my grip just enough to guide her. “Remember what I said before. You don’t pull. Youbreak.” Itwist her hand sharply, showing her how to free herself. “Quick, sharp. Then go for the weak spots—wrists, elbows, knees.”

She nods, biting her lip as she tries again. This time, she gets it, breaking free with a triumphant huff.

“Good girl,” I murmur before I can stop myself. Praise wells in my chest.

Her smile falters, her cheeks flushing. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” I tilt my head. “You like it.”

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