Page 104 of The Last One
“I noticed,” I say, smiling. “I’m impressed. She’s lovely.”
“Your hands go here.” Jadon taps the bottom of the sword’s grip. “Not here.”
“This sword feels like…” My fingers circle the grip. “Like it was created for my hand andonlymy hand.”
“Maybe it was.” He takes a step back.
Maybe? No.Definitely. I’ve already claimed it—he just doesn’t know yet.
“Play with it,” he says. “It’s yours.”
Shit. Maybe he does. Did he create this specifically for me?
I hold his gaze, and then I swing the sword once, then two more times. Fury is a perfect fit. For my hand. For me.
“You like that?” he asks.
“Can’t you tell?” I ask, grinning.
“Well, you’re kinda quiet,” he says, an eyebrow lifted.
This man… He will be the death of me. My entire body hums with adrenaline. “Give me something to hit, then.”
“When you’re ready,” he says, grinning, “I will. Until then… Good range. Easy to use. Balanced.”
“Any disadvantages?” I ask, swinging the sword again.
From behind, he taps my feet apart for a wider stance, and I can feel the heat rolling off his body. “Since it’s long, it’s not great for walking around, so you should use a scabbard and wear it on your back. I have one for you.”
He reaches around and runs his finger along the hilt, and I tremble as his warm breath fans across the back of my neck. “Since I knew that I’d be giving this to you,” he says, tracing that finger along the black blade, “I carved the moths last night. Again, like your amulet. In case you never find her, these moths will be a reminder of your power.”
I can’t take my eyes away from the moths etched across the sword’s body. “Beautiful and thoughtful. I love it, Jadon. Thank you.” Something beyond appreciation threads through me. Because I can appreciate anyone. But this buzzing and crackling, my burning skin, the buzz of every nerve in my body—this is for him. I’m ready to act too quickly. I’m ready to make the wrong decisions.
He folds his arms and sighs. “It’s nothing.”
But I know he doesn’t believe that. It’s everything. I can tell from the way his hands travel from one place on his body to the next, by the way he opens and closes his fingers because he wants to grip me. I can tell by the way he watches me, by the way his eyes linger on my ass.
I want to reach for him, but I hesitate. What if I’m wrong again?
He’s hesitant, too, lowering his gaze to the dirt and scratching the stubble on his chin. “We should move on, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I run my fingers over the carved moths as I set Fury back on the table, then point to the broadsword. “That can’t possibly be for me.”
It’s as tall as Olivia. With its wide, shiny silver blade and massive basket hilt, the two-handed sword looks as though it could slice Bronie in half with one swing.
“This,” he says, smiling, “is the best sword in Vallendor, and it belongs to me. Try it out.” He plops down in the straw that had previously lived inside poor Bronie.
“Not as big as that Otaan’s blade,” I say. “That thing was as big as it was ugly.” I’m reluctant to lift this broadsword. For some reason, I fear cutting off my own hand or a foot, or my head. But I do lift it, and immediately, every muscle in my body pulls. “Nope. I don’t like how this feels. It’s not that it’s heavier…”
I hold it away from me. “Maybe it’s the hilt, like I’m wearing a cage around my hand. But then, you don’t need a gauntlet or a glove because your hand is protected. I don’t know if I trust it, and my body is rebuking me holding something this…powerful? But I don’t think it’s that, either.”
“Tell your body to simmer down. You can do it,” Jadon instructs from the bed of straw. “You’re right—this weapon can cut off heads and limbs. It slices through mail and helmets. It takes more practice, more physicality, but I’ve seen you use an unremarkable sword and a garden hoe. At this point, I’m convinced you can do anything.”
I bat my eyelashes. “Thank you so much.” I turn back to the sword. “What’s his name?”
“Chaos.”
“That suits.” I peer at the sword, then back at Jadon. “One swing and shit just unravels.”
