Page 68 of Crowned

“Still showing off?” I call out, leaning against the railing.

Bhodi grins, twisting out of the way of an incoming strike and delivering a swift knock to his opponent’s weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. The soldier stumbles back, panting, and Bhodi gives him a nod before turning his attention to me. His chest rises and falls heavily, as he swipes a hand over his sweat-dampened brow.

“Always.” His grin is bright, teasing, and something about it tugs at the corners of my own lips before I can stop it.

I laugh, the sound is unexpected even to me. It feels strange – light and unfamiliar. A reminder that there’s still room for something other than the weight pressing down on me.

Bhodi jogs over, grabbing a towel from the bench and draping it over his shoulder. His eyes flick over me, assessing in that quiet way of his, but he doesn’t push. “What brings you here, then? Looking for tips?”

“Hardly.” I cross my arms, arching a brow. “I just needed some fresh air. And maybe some entertainment.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” he says easily, shaking out his shoulders. “Though I’d have thought you’d be more impressed.”

“Oh, I’m impressed.” I let my gaze drag over him in mock consideration. “Just not with the fighting.”

He smirks. “Is that so? And here I thought my footwork was impeccable.”

“It is,” I admit. “For a show-off.”

Bhodi laughs, the sound rich, as he steps closer, the scent of sweat and steel clinging to him. There’s a flicker of something softer in his gaze, something searching. “How are you holding up?”

The lightness in my chest tightens, and I shift my weight. “I’m managing,” I say, though even to my own ears, it doesn’t sound entirely convincing. “I feel like my magic is getting stronger every day.”

Bhodi nods, like he expected as much. He doesn’t call me out on it, but he doesn’t let it slide either. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Malia.” His voice is quieter now, laced with something unshakable. “It’s okay to admit you’re scared.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “I know.” I hesitate, then sigh. “But if I let myself feel it too much, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep going.”

His jaw tics, and he shifts a fraction closer. “You will,” he says, certainty woven into every syllable. “Because that’s who you are. And because you’ve got all of us backing you up.”

His words settle something inside me, a knot loosening, if only slightly. I meet his gaze, offering him a small smile. “Thank you, Bhodi.”

“Anytime.” His grin returns, boyish and wicked. “Now, about those tips…”

I scoff. “Oh, please, I could take you down in under a minute.”

His brows lift, amused. “Bold claim, little goddess.”

“Not a claim.” I smirk. “A fact.”

Bhodi moves fast – too fast for me to react, before he’s crowding into my space, one arm bracing against the railing behind me. His body radiates heat, his breath still uneven from sparring. “Then prove it.”

I tilt my chin up. “What, right here?”

His grin turns wolfish. “Scared?”

“Never.”

I move first, reaching to shove him back, but he anticipates it, catching my wrist mid-air. In the same breath, he shifts, using my own momentum to spin me, pressing my back against the railing. The movement is seamless, practiced. His grip is firm but not unkind, the warmth of his fingers wrapping around mine.

“Like I said,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with challenge, “impeccable footwork.”

Heat rises beneath my skin, something sharp and electric curling low in my stomach. I should shove him away. I should call him on his arrogance.

Instead, I let the tension stretch between us, taut and thrilling, until the breath between us feels thin.

His gaze flickers to my mouth. A single moment of hesitation. And then he kisses me.

It’s not careful or questioning – it’s fire and heat and hunger, a claim and a challenge all in one. He tastes like salt and steel, the force of it pressing me deeper against the railing. His hands come to my waist, pulling me closer, and I gasp against him, my fingers curling into his damp shirt.

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