Page 82 of Daughter of the Serpent

Chapter Fourteen

The view of Axel was a welcome reprieve from the day’s events. The evening sun glistened upon his tattooed skin, muscles flexing and retracting as he moved his sword in a catlike grace. The muscles of his back rippled as his arms drove his blade forward, slicing through the air as rune carved skin came alive in a soft glow. Energy rolled in rich tangible waves, enveloping the air around him in a cocoon of raw power. He moved with the confidence of a god, all masculine perfection and feral glory, each swing of his sword fluid with purpose, each sinuous bend and twist of his form permanently etched and instantly committed to memory.

The blue and black ink curved in intricate spirals spoke of earned successes and battles won, spinning stories yet to be told. His long braided hair, as dark as the midnight, swayed with each movement, the silver ornaments woven into its strands catching the light like stars in the black night. As sweat began to bead upon his brow and trickle down his broad chest, a warmth stirred within her, her gaze lingering. Something about him set her on edge, the strange shiver that caressed her spine now a welcome guest as her eyes devoured him in all his untamed glory.

Rumors of men like him had reached her ears more often of late, whispered tales of the Hazier, those beings of untamed ferocity and boundless strength. Stories spoke of their ability to face down entire armies single - handedly and emerge unscathed, their prowess in battle unmatched by any mortal foe. At first, she had dismissed such accounts as nothing more than the fanciful imaginings of the past, legends woven into the fabric of history.

But now, as she stood in his presence, witnessing the raw power emanating from his every movement, doubt crept into her mind.

Could it be possible that such men truly existed?

If they did, and they were anything like Axel, they would be fearsome indeed.

As his gaze fell upon her, he halted, his sword splitting through the air in one final, powerful stroke before coming to rest at his side. "You're here," he stated simply, reaching for his shirt that lay discarded nearby. "Good."

Sylvie's lips parted and she squared her shoulders, quickly trying to extinguish the gathering heat that had begun to muster. "I've been practicing," she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"I'm glad to hear it," he responded, pulling the fabric over his bare torso, a pang of disappointment flickering across Sylvie's features at the loss of his exposed physique.

Her voice was tinged with a hint of awe when she spoke. "Will you show me how to dance with the blade as you do?”

He paused, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Closing the distance between them, he reached out, his hand enveloping hers as he placed the training blade firmly in her grip. Flame wrapped around her body in one sensual wave at his touch. Memories flashed before her eyes, images of two fiery orbs engulfed in flames, a vision that had haunted her dreams ever since she partook in the rite.

Had it been him that she saw?For a moment he lingered, thosetwo eyes revealing nothing but smoldering heat that seemed to whisper on the wind a sensual promise.

"We must hone your skill first," he stated, moving away, breaking the spell. “Once you have mastered the basics - then we can talk about more advanced techniques.”

She nodded, disappointed. She wanted to move how he did, graceful and dangerous.

“Do not be fooled. It is not the dance of the blade that matters most, but the control of it, the ability to move and defend. What you must learn is survival. The rest can come in time. The Hazier spend years mastering their technique, one is never the master, but always the student.”

His voice was calm yet commanding and with a flick of his hand, he beckoned her to step forward.

"Now let’s see how much you’ve been practicing," he commanded, lowering himself into his fighting stance, his one fist pounding the dirt. “Attack!”

She knew not to hesitate, summoning every ounce of her strength, she surged forward, her muscles ready to unleash their power. With a swift motion, she raised her blade, poised to strike. But as her arm came down her blow fell short, the rush of air the only indication of her missed mark as his blade intercepted hers, halting its path just shy of his shoulder.

"You leave yourself vulnerable," he remarked, a small muscle twitching in his jaw as she felt the subtle jab to her ribs from his other hand. "The risk you took is one you cannot afford."

Frustration etched lines into her brow as she shook herself free from his hold, determination glinting in her eyes.

"Again," he commanded, his voice unwavering.

She took another step forward, determination burning within her, but in an instant, his swift motion disarmed her, her training sword clattering to the ground.

"You're moving too slow," he barked, his voice cutting through theair like a whip. His expression tightened into a rigid line of disapproval. "Retrieve your weapon."

Rage seemed to inhabit her, her bones snapping back in retaliation, her body ready to unleash the built up emotion from the day. Gritting her teeth she reached for their sword, and bounded toward him again, this time managing to block his first strike. Yet her success was limited. As his blade bit into her own, his strength pressed into hers, draining life from her limbs quickly.

No matter how hard she tried, he was too strong, too big, too fast.

As if he could sense her confidence slipping, his eyes turned dark. “Come now,” his voice curved along her spine, his face inches from her own. “Is this all you’ve got?”

She shoved him, hurtling the full force of her body into his, pushing his blade back.

Yet his hand swept behind her gripping into her leathers before he could falter, bringing her with him, knocking her off balance.

She heard her own groan bite past her lips, something primal, feral come to life as she hit the ground beside him, the cruel earth meeting her tender flesh with a thud.

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