Page 208 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“I needed to stretch my legs.”

“Well, clearly more than just your legs.” Riven pauses beside the ring. “Wound a little tight?”

Caryan shoots him a flashing glance. Riven keeps his mocking expression, although he is not the least bit as relaxed as he pretends to be.

They were gone too long. Ten solid days.

“Want to join me for another round?” Caryan asks.

“You know I prefer weapons or magic over hand-on-hand combat anytime. Less chance to get an armpit full of sweat,” Riven sneers.

“You can use your magic,” Caryan offers.

Riven raises his brows. “You’re really up for it, aren’t you? And will you use yourskills?”

“I’ll play fair. Only my body, no magic.”

“Don’t complain when I singe your eyebrows,” Riven says forcefully, shrugging off his shirt.

The corner of Caryan’s lips lifts ever so slightly, but Riven’s unable to say whether it’s to flash his teeth or a hint of humor.

They fight like they mean it. Riven only survives the rounds without a knockout like Arien because he uses the same talent the shadow-shifter displayed—to become shadow, stepping in and out of the darkness.

Riven doesn’t hold back though. He fights with all his anger, his claws, his speed. Caryan lets him work it off, he knows.

It doesn’t spare him from a punch to his jaw so hard he’d have lost all his teeth if he were human. A flash of dark flames springs to life all over his skin, turning Riven briefly into nothing but shadowfire. Only this keeps Caryan from landing a second blow.

Riven pivots, steps into darkness, and lands a flame-laced kick into Caryan’s back.

The angel clenches his teeth, snarling.

“You wanted it,” Riven chides, wiping sweat from his forehead with his arm, challenging Caryan to counter with his magic.

But the angel doesn’t. As with Arien, he shoots out his wings to knock Riven out, but he becomes darkness again, throwing a fist right into Caryan’s face, a move the angel blocks with his lightning-fast reflexes, putting an elbow up between them to deflect Riven’s hand while he lands a blow right into Riven’s face. The impact hurts—revenge for the kick to his back.

Riven barely avoids another similar strike as shadowfire flares up on Caryan’s wings before Caryan can block it with his magic.

For a sliver of a second, the angel with black wings burning with dark fire looks like a god from hell.

Gloriously vengeful.

“Now we’re even,” Riven says, both hands up, palms open, breathing hard, willing his flames out before they can singe the feathers of Caryan’s wings. Not that Riven would allow them to truly harm Caryan, no matter how furious he still is. He’d only let them sizzle a little on the outside; knowing too well how sensitive Caryan’s wings are—he might as well be singeing Caryan’s balls.

Caryan bares his teeth nonetheless, snapping at him, living onyx dancing in his eyes. “You cheated,” he snarls, his tone lethal.

“You said I could use my magic. And you were the one who used his wings, or they would have been off limits,” Riven says quickly between breaths.

Caryan glances at his wings—not a feather has been even slightly singed—then nods in acceptance of Riven’s truce.

Two water bottles appear out of nowhere in their hands—a gift from Caryan—and Riven watches with some satisfaction how Caryan gulps down his as quickly as he does.

“Good to see that I can still make you sweat harder than Arien,” Riven drawls.

Caryan just raises a brow.

“So…” Riven starts again, grabbing a towel and wiping his wet torso with it. “I take it you didn’t get what you were looking for, or I’d have found you screwing one of those gorgeous elves rather than working it off here.”

“Elvesyoupassed the time with, as I’ve heard,” Caryan replies.

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