Page 55 of Hard Shift

Chapter 17

Two weeks later, Elizabeth lay sprawled on her back on the sparring mat. Sweat beaded her brow, and her chest rose and fell from her deep breaths.

“You won’t win lying down,” Evan called to her from the other side of the mat, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword.

“Give her a break,” Rhys argued with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He looked at her and smiled giving her the push she needed to ignore her sore muscles and get back up.

“You’re fighting with human constraints. Only you are not human, Elizabeth,” Evan said while lifting his sword and moving around the room as though he was preparing to attack again. “You are immortal.”

She flipped to her feet, slicing the air with her katana.

“You are faster than any animal in your body. You can control minds and bend wills to do your bidding.” He advanced on her, bringing his sword down in an arc.

She caught his sword with the katana and pushed him away, narrowing her eyes.

“Attack,” he ordered. His voice deepened as his impatience grew with each step as he circled her.

She ignored him, devising a plan in her mind. Evan was right about her speed, about her ability. She’d practiced, and she knew her limits, but she also knew the worth of having the element of surprise on her side.

“When I best you, and I will,”—she grinned—“then my training is done?”

One of his brows rose in challenge. “If you think it’s possible, give it your best shot.”

Keeping a straight face, she followed his movement, each step and slice of his blade. He was watching and waiting, preparing to strike with a predator’s grace.

“Evan, where were you when I was five?”

His brows dipped being caught off guard at her question, and she stifled her smile, not giving him an inch of understanding.

“I was learning to wield my first sword,” he answered.

“Do you know what I was doing?” She grinned and ran toward him. When his sword came down toward her, she dropped her sword and grabbed her dagger from the sheath at her waist. Using her immense speed and control, she somersaulted from the mat into a double flip over his head, landing behind him. She tilted his head to the side, the sharp point of the dagger pointed at his neck.

“I was in gymnastics,” she breathed into his ear, “perfecting that move.” Lowering her weapon, she stepped back. “You don’t know everything about me, much less my desire to get the hell out of this room and back to work. We’re wasting time.”

“Well done, Abigail,” the king called out from the other end of the room where he was standing just inside the doorway.

“Elizabeth,” all three of them answered back in unison.

Rhys tossed her a towel before handing her a bottle of water. He’d been so patient with her during their time at the compound. His brothers had taken over his role at the bar so that he could help her work things out. His life was on pause while hers was finally starting to take shape. Finally starting to feel as though it meant something and where she might actually fit in, not as a princess or even a queen or even the old man’s royal daughter but as a protector. When she’d met the others, the tension between them was thick. Having trained with half of them, proving herself capable in combat, they’d let their guards down and treated her just like another guardian and not the spoiled princess they’d assumed her to be.

Her relationship with the old man was courteous at best. She ignored his attempts to make amends, keeping him at arm’s length and not giving him the affection he was after, not wanting to risk another heartbreak when he didn’t return her love. It was easier that way. They might be related by blood, but the affection stopped there. To her, he was no more than another man who had let her down. Another man who had thrust her into a world that had almost killed her.

“Meeting room in five minutes,” her dear old dad announced before disappearing from the room.

Rhys pulled her into his arms for a sweaty kiss as Evan hooked the weapons back onto the wall.

“I talked to Max. The senator’s wife lost her mate in a fight before she ever met the senator,” he whispered into her ear. “When the Senator and she married, she was already pregnant and still grieving.”

Elizabeth’s mouth parted. “You’re sure?”

Rhys shrugged. “That’s the rumor.”

Rhys tossed his arm around her shoulders, and they followed Evan out of the room and into the conference room. Rhys walked in behind her, his hand on her back when one of the guards they’d nicknamed Striker stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“This is a private meeting.”

Rhys growled and narrowed his eyes at the bastard. How dare he try to keep Rhys out of the conversation? If he wasn’t allowed, then she had no desire to hear what the mighty king had to say.

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