Page 34 of Ashes to Ashes

I block the first, sidestep the second, duck the third, but the elbow catches me across the shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down my arm.

“Sorry,” he says with a grin and a belly laugh that echoes around us, that says he’s not sorry at all. “Forgot you’re more delicate than my usual sparring partners. Though you don’t feel delicate at all.”

I blow a loose strand of hair from my eyes as I glare at him.

I strike and Orion ducks. “That’s two,” he says, wiping sweat from his brow with infuriating calm.

“I wasn’t even trying yet,” I mutter.

“Is that what we’re calling it? Because you look like you’re about to combust.” His eyes drop to my lips. “In all the best ways.”

“Maybe I just find your face particularly irritating.”

“Funny. Most people find it particularly attractive.” He steps closer, invading my personal space. “Want to tell me what’s really distracting you?”

“Your ego taking up all the oxygen in the room.”

“That’s not my ego you’re reacting to, wildfire.”

He grins. “Well. I can’t be blamed for your weaknesses.”

Infuriating fae.

He moves closer than strictly necessary for the next exchange, his breath warm against my ear. “You feel like someone I’ve been waiting to meet for a very long time.”

In reply, I counter with what should be a standard special forces combination—a straight jab followed by a sweep.

But again, my body modifies the movements, incorporating flowing transitions that mirror his Wild Court style.

My jab transforms mid-motion into a spiral pattern that weaves around his guard.

My sweep doesn’t oppose his stance but complements it, creating a circular force that flows rather than strikes.

“That’s three times you’ve dropped your guard,” Orion says, catching my wrist.

I huff and push damp strands out of my face. “Maybe you’re distracting.”

“Maybe?” he echoes, stepping closer, his grip sliding down to my hand.

I raise my staff between us. “Don’t make me prove I’m still dangerous.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs, eyes glinting with that infuriating mix of amusement and something darker. “But I do enjoy watching you try.”

I jab forward and miss by a hair. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Next time, don’t hesitate.”

“Next time, don’t smirk at me like you know exactly what I’m thinking.”

“I do know what you’re thinking.” His voice drops to a rumble. “And I’m thinking the same thing.”

“Noted,” he says. “But no promises, fragile human.”

“Not fragile,” I reply, landing a strike that makes him grunt in surprise and pleasure to course through me. “Just different.”

“Different,” he repeats, with a smile that makes his eyes flash gold. “I like different.”

He moves closer than necessary for our next exchange, his body heat radiating against mine like standing near a bonfire.

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