Page 103 of Emylia

The heat in his eyes swallowed me.Scorchedme. He didn’t look away. Didn’t give me space to breathe.

“I’ve always been really good with my hands,” he added, just above a whisper. “If you hadn’t noticed.”

His breath kissed the curve of my cheek.

And Gods—it had the exact effect he intended.

“So, how about I make sure you canactuallyshoot the bow—I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” I knew he was just teasing, but damn, his words still stung.

Without any word of warning, Maalikai turned, forcing me to jog to catch up to him before matching his pace. We only momentarily stopped to retrieve a bow I assumed he’d borrowed and some arrows I hadn’t noticed.

Stopping in front of one of the targets, he turned to me. “Alright, show me what you’ve got.”

Finally, we were getting to the fun part.

Turning to the side, I grasped the bow with my right hand, my right leg facing forward. He passed me an arrow with the dark, speckled feather facing up. In an instant, the arrow was nocked.

Pain bit into my fingertips as I pulled the string back, a knot instantly forming between my shoulder blades from the resistance. Ignoring the pain, I lined up the arrow with what I thought would be a perfect bullseye.

A shaky breath filled my lungs. It had been well over six months since I’d last shot my bow, there was a very likely chance that I’d become rusty.

Exhaling, I let the string go.

Everything stopped.

My breathing.

Even the thrumming of my heart.

The arrow whistled through the air, nerves writhing in my stomach as I waited for it to hit the target. A soft thud sounded as my arrow embedded in the hay. The end of the arrow swayed violently as it struck the dead center of the target.

Without warning, I became weightless; Maalikai scooped me into his arms spinning us in a tight circle, my arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

“That was incredible. Beyond incredible.” Maalikai’s excitement was infectious.

I found myself laughing with him. I’d forgotten how wonderful it was to shoot a bow. The moment my feet touched the ground, I studied his face. It was transparent and full of pride.

“When I’m done with you, I’ll have made you into the most magnificent warrioress.”

Before I could help myself, a rather embarrassing snort escaped me. “Excuse me, sir. I am already the most magnificent warrioress.”

“Really, what makes you so sure?” He quieted, a ghost of a smile lifting up a corner of his lips.

“For starters, a woman warrior is laughable; they don’t exist. So, I automatically win the title. Besides, my skill is already unrivaled.”

His brows furrowed, challenging my belief with a single look. “I’m definitely not going to challenge you about being unrivaled. However, you aren’t the only female warrior.”

“Right…” My smile faded as I observed his features, relaxing my bow to my side. “You’re being serious?”

“Of course. The Western Warriors don’t discriminate based on gender. From the moment a child can wield a weapon, they are taught how to be ruthless. A lot of them would kill just for fun.”

My mouth dropped open. I knew the Western Wastelands were different than Agertheria. It was part of the reason we had never gotten along and had been in a near-constant state of war. Once Crixus had destabilized the land, neither region could agree on how to move forward.

“No wonder you’re so fearsome, growing up with them has forged you into a lethal weapon. But I still can’t even imagine a woman wielding a weapon. Not a single woman in Ophelia has even touched a weapon, let alone using one with any skill. Apart from myself, obviously”

A sigh escaped him. “Maybe it’s time for a change.”

I spun on him, my eyes colliding with his. “What makes you say that?”

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