Page 60 of Sheltered in the Storm

Did she find the contents of my armory insufficient? Lacking in quality? I had long taken pride in my collection, but suddenly I felt as though she had judged my cache and found it wanting.

Humming under her breath, she picked up a pair of Hardanian scythe-knives and spun one in each hand, testing their weight and balance. Perhaps she did not like how they felt, because she returned them to their place and hefted the weapon to their right: a set of heavy Tocanian spiked bolos. Impressive to look at and a showpiece of my collection, but impractical for hand-to-hand sparring. Apparently she felt the same, and put them down. With a glance, she assessed and quickly dismissed my priceless Fylorian sword without even touching it, then moved on to a pair of Fortusian daggers.

My Calla did not look at me, and her expression remained inscrutable, but I knew instantly she would choose to wield them to spar with me because they were the sole weapon on the bed native to my homeworld. I hid my smile. Naturally my mischievous mate would want to show me how well she could use them against me.

She spun the daggers in each hand the same way she had tested the Hardanian scythe-knives. Then she browsed the remainder of my offerings, testing all her options and demonstrating ability and skill with each. My approval and appreciation of my warrior Calla grew.

And every movement, every glint of a blade, every spin andsnickof metal on metal or wood made my cock twitch and harden that much more. She must have noted my reaction, but she did not acknowledge it in any way.

In the end, she did indeed select the Fortusian daggers. She spun them forward and backward, switched grip styles lightning fast, and then turned to face me, a blade in each hand.

“You should have chosen first,” she said, with a smile.

In answer, I picked up the heavy plasma-edged Ganaian broadsword that she had swung in a few arcs before dropping it back on the bed. No doubt she had wielded one of these notoriously deadly weapons many times throughout her life.

With my gaze on hers, I turned my wrist, swinging the sword in a circle, followed by a series of fast lunges with right-to-left and left-to-right slashes that blurred. The point of the sword whizzed past the end of her nose and stirred the loose hairs around her face, but my Calla did not so much as flinch. In fact, her smile grew.

“Oh, Vos.” She chuckled. “You want to play? Then by all means, let’s play.”

I had hopedthe rain would ease to a drizzle by the time we went outside, but if anything the downpour had increased in volume. If the deluge bothered Calla, she did not say so. Poe moved out of our way, trundling in a perimeter around the inside of the wall, monitoring our surroundings with two eyes while the third watched us.

“I am used to heavy rain, but it puts you at a disadvantage,” I said as my Calla and I faced each other in the garden. “We can postpone this match until it eases, if you want.”

She smiled as if she knew I was provoking her. “It’s just rain, Vos. I won’t melt.”

“I will not use my tentacles, then.” I tucked them behind my back and made my expression sympathetic. “I am already much faster and larger than you. We are only sparring, but even so, the fight must not be so lopsided in my favor.”

“I’d be more susceptible to your goading if I hadn’t spent so many years taking shit from the rest of my squad. They’re much,muchbetter at it than you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want to forfeit because you’re scared to hurt your sweet little mate? I’m disappointed in you, Vos. You didn’t have any trouble giving me pain an hour ago when I asked you for it.”

I went for her before she finished speaking, moving at about three-quarters of my true speed, with the crackling edge of my sword facing away from her chest so only the sharp metal would touch her skin. We had agreed we would draw blood, but the plasma would cause an excruciating wound.

When my blade reached where she had been standing, though, she was no longer there.

The point of a dagger prodded my lower back, directly above one of my kidneys.

“Missed me,” she said, laughing.

My tentacles darted to grab her as I spun, blade raised. I turned just in time to see her roll out of their reach and flip to her feet. I felt the sting where her dagger had poked me, but my back was not bleeding.

“I took pity on you,” my Calla said, smirking as she braced herself with blades at the ready. “That was too easy. I think you might be out of practice. I’ll have to move slower to give you a chance.”

“There is more to you than meets the eye, Calla Wren.” I studied her stance. A modified J’noran close-combat position, ideal for someone her height and weight. She had adapted it to account for wielding mid-sized daggers rather than the longer curved blades of J’noranintanas. Perfection.

How was it possible that each time I thought I could notdesire her more, she found a new way to be utterly captivating? Perhaps shehadbewitched me, but not with magic—with the many facets of her wonderful, glorious, complex self.

“Are you going to stare at me all day, or come at me like you actually want to win?” she taunted. “Come on, Vos. Stop looking at me like you want to fuck me and come play with me.”

Come play with me.

I would, forever, if she gave me the chance.

With a grin, I went for her, sword raised. She met me with her daggers and a laugh before spinning out of my grasp and the reach of my blade once again.

We traded parries, thrusts, and light blows around the garden. And gods above, she was good. Better than good—exquisite, fast, and light on her feet, more like a dancer than any opponent I had faced in a very long time.

True to her word about wanting to find her limits after her injuries and recovery, my Calla came after me with all her skill and ability. She pushed herself hard, and once she found her confidence, she drove herself harder, until she dripped with sweat in addition to rain.

Her blades sliced through the fabric of my tunic and my pants three times, never quite drawing blood, while she avoided the edge and point of my sword altogether.

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