Page 8 of Chains of Love

"Better." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "But your grip is wrong."

I slide my fingers over hers, repositioning them on the hilt. The bond tingles with each point of contact, sending waves of warmth through my body. Her breath catches.

"Again," I say, stepping back before the sensation overwhelms me. "This time, faster."

She attacks, and I deflect, our bodies moving in a deadly dance. With each pass, she gets closer. The bond thrumsbetween us, amplifying every sensation until I can barely think straight.

The dagger slices through empty air as I sidestep Lirien's attack. She's learning fast – too fast. Her next strike comes closer, and I catch her wrist, using her momentum to spin her around. The motion brings her back flush against my chest, my arm crossed over hers, pinning the blade between us.

"Better." My breath stirs the silver strands by her ear. "But you're still telegraphing your moves."

Lirien turns her head, looking back at me over her shoulder. The firelight catches the delicate curve of her jaw, the fresh scar on her cheek. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and the bond pulses with each breath, sending waves of heat through my body.

My gaze drops to her parted lips. They're flushed from exertion, full and impossibly soft-looking. The urge to trace them with my thumb, to learn their texture, hits me with physical force. The bond between us thrums with awareness, and I feel her pulse quicken beneath my fingers where they circle her wrist.

"Am I?" Her voice comes out breathy, barely above a whisper. The words brush across my skin like a caress.

The feline chirps from its corner, breaking the moment. I step back, my heart pounding harder than it should from such simple exercise.

Focus, I remind myself.It's her fault you're here. Now she's just supposed to get you home.

Not do whatever that was.

5

LIRIEN

Ipush myself up from the dirt, my robes collecting twigs and leaves. My muscles protest, but I refuse to show weakness. "Let's go again."

We continued sparring right after waking up, and despite fail after fail, I'm determined to keep this momentum going.

Darak lowers his blade, those crimson eyes studying me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. His lips quirk into an infuriating half-smile. "You should take a break. When's the last time you ate something besides those bread crumbs?"

Am I feeling his... concern? No, that can't be right. I brush off my robes, ignoring the trembling in my hands. "Since when do you give a shit about my wellbeing?"

His jaw tightens. The muscles in his shoulders bunch beneath the leather armor as he raises his sword. The blade cuts through the air in a graceful arc, and I can't help but smirk. Got him.

I watch him move through the forms, each motion precise and deadly. The firelight plays across his ash-gray skin, highlighting the sharp planes of his face. The bond thrums with energy – or maybe that's just my pulse quickening. At least whenhe's moving like this, caught up in the dance of steel, he's not fixing me with that accusatory glare. This is where he belongs, all coiled power and lethal grace.

The way he handles that sword... it's like an extension of himself. My mouth goes dry as he executes a particularly complex maneuver, his hair coming loose from its tie. A few strands fall across his face, and I have to curl my fingers into my palms to resist the urge to brush them back.

Gods help me, but watching him like this – a warrior in his element – it's intoxicating.

I move to block his strike, but Darak's foot hooks behind my ankle. The world tilts, and I land hard on my ass, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Pain shoots up my spine.

"Fuck!" I slam my palm against the dirt. Twigs and leaves tangle in my hair, and my robes twist around my legs.

"Your robes," Darak says, sheathing his practice sword. "They're restricting your movement. Hard to dodge when you're fighting fabric."

Fine. Let him see what he's dealing with. I rise, fingers working at the clasps of my outer robe. The heavy fabric falls away, pooling at my feet. The morning air kisses my bare midriff, and goosebumps ripple across my skin.

Darak's crimson eyes track the movement, lingering on the exposed strip of pale flesh between my leather pants and cropped top. Something hot and dark throbs between us that makes my breath catch.

"Happy?" I ask, my voice coming out huskier than intended.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches for the buckles of his armor. The leather chest piece drops to the ground with a dull thud. Sunlight spills across the planes of his bare chest, highlighting old scars that map his ash-gray skin like silver threads.

Heat floods my body, and it has nothing to do with exertion. The bond between us thrums with shared awareness, and I have to tear my gaze away before I do something stupid – like trace those scars with my fingers and end up scaring him away.

---