Page 53 of Stormbinder King
His smile was as bright and fae as ever.
“No, you don’t. You can’t wait for me to come to you at night.”
“I wish you’d go away again after,” I retorted. “Go sleep with someone else.”
I was surprised to see a line appear between his eyes, the gleaming grin wiped off his face.
“Don’t be obstinate, Andromeda. I sleep withyou.”
I feinted left but went right, his blade catching mine only an inch or two from his ribcage.
“I’m saying you don’t have to,” I retorted, feeling my heart pound as he continued to look at me. “I don’t care. Fuck me and leave. Go to Aurelia’s bed.”
I was getting tired, but I struck again, and Jack didn’t move quite fast enough, the sharp blade slicing through the sleeve of his shirt and raising a thin line of blood on his bicep.
“You shouldn’t fight without tips,” the King’s voice rumbled into the clearing. “It is too dangerous.”
“Mydagger is tipped, of course,” Jack shot at him.
“I forbid it,” Symeon said, stepping in between the two of us.
Jack’s eyes flashed and I saw an angry red flush on his cheeks. “Get your dagger out then,” he said sharply. “Or I have a spare for you.”
“I’ll use my own,” said Symeon shortly. “I don’t think I’d trust a weapon that came from you. Are we both tipping or not?”
“Tipped, of course,” Jack snarled, directing a look of loathing at his brother.
He hopped out onto the nearby stream, which was still frozen solid.
The ice would make for a difficult fighting surface, but benefit how light Jack was on his feet.
“Can’t win without cheating, can you?” said Symeon, but he hopped down from the bank to land on the frozen ice too.
“Can you be surprised,” snarled Jack, “That I’d want to get some of my own back?”
“No,” agreed Symeon. “Ever since we were boys you’ve been bitterly jealous of me. All because I was born before you.”
“Andyouare furious,” Jack said. “That I get your fated mate every night. Your one true love. You don’t know half the things I do to her. The way I fill any of her holes any goddamn way I please and she’s always begging for more.”
Symeon’s eyes snapped towards his brother. “Get your damn dagger up.”
Jack raised his tipped dagger and they met.
I watched them spar on the slick ice, Jack’s whip-like lean strength and the broad, heavy steps of the King.
Jack was quick, agile, and strong.
Symeon was not as fast, but he was massive, each movement powerful, forcing Jack to pivot away to blunt the force of each blow.
After a clash of weapons, the two brothers circled each other, looking for any opening. Any weakness.
My tattoo felt unusually warm, and I put my fingers uneasily on my shoulder, feeling it pulse angrily underneath them.
This cursed binding. This ever-permanent reminder that I was Jack’s depraved wanton.
Jack saw his brother’s eyes flick over to me and his lips split in a savage grin.
“Your fated mate,” he said, his white teeth smeared with blood. “And she desiresme. Me, brother. Not you.”
