Page 174 of Of Blood and Banes
I dig into it as if I were sinking my fingers into the soil and drawing it up from the depths of my soul. I rush forward, swinging my blade out toward his knees, and he blocks me. We flow into swings and spins. It doesn’t take me long to recognize his hesitancy. While he strikes me, it lacks the speed and strength of what I know he’s capable of.
Channeling that anger, I grit my teeth and feed that rage into my attacks. Without caging my strength, I lunge forward and drag my sword straight toward his throat. My blade slams into his as he blocks, a vibration ringing up through my arm.
He holds my blade in place with his. Not a single bead of sweat collects on his brow, as if we’re doing something as simple as slow dancing. My muscles strain against his brute strength pressed into the blade, my arms trembling until my legs do as I fight to hold him at bay, and yet…
He’s still.
Holding.
Back.
He can easily knock me on my ass. Right here. Right now. In front of everyone.
“Do it,” I grit out between my clenched teeth, pinning him with a glare.
He shakes his head slightly, jaw tense.
“You’re still…holding…back,” I growl, shoving every last bit of my weight and power into him. “I am not some fragile…little?—”
He explodes with a grunt, releasing his power and knocking me backward. I fall in slow-motion, the trees and sky a blur as I plummet. I squeeze my eyes shut and tense, waiting for the impact. My ass hits the ground first, followed quickly by my back, my shoulders, my?—
Something catches my head before it can slam into the ground, cushioning my fall. Opening my eyes, I find myself staring back into Cole’s golden ones.
Eyebrows furrowed, his mouth parts in a small whisper, “Are you…?”
I nod, pushing myself up off the ground. He slips his hand off the back of my head and offers me a hand, pulling me up to my feet. One by one, the onlookers explode in a clap, cheering just as loud as when I defeated Melaina. I turn, meeting each of their gazes as a small smile spreads my lips.
I glance over my shoulder and mutter, “You?—”
He’s already gone.
I slip off to the forest after dinner and sit near the river’s edge, staring at the water as I absentmindedly brush a hand up and down Daeja’s massive snout until she dozes off next to me. Marge’s gloves are piled on my thigh. I find comfort in Daeja’s scales, still warm from the fading winter sun, my fingers gliding over each ridge. Every exhalation she breathes nearly flattens the crisp, frosty grass.
“I’ve been looking for you,” a thick voice calls. Cole shifts in, taking a seat beside me.
“You were the one who left earlier?”
Daeja lifts her head to glance at Cole before she settles back down, tucking her wings into her side even tighter.
He glances at me sideways, warily. “Are you alright?”
I nod and roll my shoulders back, my eyes still glued to the rushing water as an ache ripples through my muscles when I move. “All you did was knock me on my ass. It’s not like you hurt me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His unexpected answer finally tears my gaze away from the water.
He clears his throat when our eyes connect and shifts his gaze down to a patch of grass he fiddles with. “I umm…look. I know you’ve lost a lot of people you care about. And it feels like it’s constantly one thing after another. And…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I suppose I’m as okay as one can be,” I mutter. Glancing down at Daeja underneath my hand, with her eyes closed and breathing easy, a soft smile creeps up my cheeks. When Iglimpse the Blood Ring on my finger—Cole’s mother’s ring—my smile fades again.
He must be looking at me now because he asks, “What? What is it?”
“I feel wrong wearing it, you know?” I admit in a whisper.
“Why?”
“Because…” I clear my throat, struggling to form my thoughts into words. The truth of it is because his mother’s ring had always been a promise of our relationship. Of our love. Our future. It feels unfair to wear it now—for him and for me. It makes me feel wrong for wearing it during my nights with Darian. When all I really want— if I’m honest with myself— is the one thing I can’t have. Him.
