Page 9 of Princess

Pivoting smoothly, he sidestepped just enough to evade my blade before countering with a strike toward my exposed flank.

I barely managed to block as our swords locked together with a metallic clang.He leaned in, pressing his strength against mine, giving a huff of warm breath with his determination.

“You’re still too predictable,” he murmured.“Your weight’s all wrong.”

“Maybe you’re just old,” I countered with a grin, shoving back to disengage.

Beck barked out a laugh.“Old?Or just better?”

His next attack was fast.He made a feint to the left, followed by a spinning arc aimed at my midsection.Instead of retreating, I stepped into the blow, catching his blade with mine and twisting hard.

The move knocked him slightly off balance, and I pressed the advantage, raining down strikes that forced him to backpedal.

“Better, King,” he said, as if offering a training critique.“But I still know your openings.”

To prove his point, he snapped a sudden kick to my knee.It wasn’t hard enough to injure, but enough to send me stumbling sideways.

Before I could jump to my feet, the flat of his blade tapped against my ribs.

“Dead,” he declared, smugly.

His victory was short-lived.

“Look down, old man.”

We were the same damn age, but ever since Beck had mated with Missy, he’d developed something dangerously close to a sense of humor.

Beck’s gaze dropped to where my knife, the one I always carried at my waist, rested dangerously against his junk.

He let out a low chuckle.“Missy would not like that.”

I wiped the sweat from my brow and nodded.“Again?”

“Again,” Beck said.

This time, there was no humor in his voice.

We went at it once more.I won in half the time.We were about to launch into round three when I caught movement in my periphery.

Marinah.

“Do you want to baby Beck’s arrogance all day or are you ready for a real opponent?”she asked, her words laced with challenge.

Pregnancy hadn’t stopped her from training, and I doubted anything could.I didn’t like seeing her on the practice field while she was carrying our child, but it wasn’t my call.At least if she was fighting me, I could make damn sure there were no accidents.

Beck stepped aside with a grin, and Marinah took his place, standing across from me, her sword at the ready.Her posture was too relaxed, but her eyes told another story.They gleamed with the quiet promise of violence.

Our blades met in a flurry of strikes and the sharp clang of steel filled the air.

“You’re holding back,” she growled, circling me like a predator.“I can feel it.And it’s pissing me off.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied, feigning a quick jab at her left shoulder.

It was slow.She dodged easily and countered with a sharp swing aimed at my midsection.

I blocked, but half-heartedly.

She saw it.

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