Page 97 of A Dance With Fire
Julius weaved away from the frantic swiping of her blade. A flash of silver came crashing down and pain radiated up her wrists, causing her to drop the sword again. He didn’t let her pick it up a second time. Her feet scrambled backwards as he advanced. She ducked, rolled, stood up, and felt pain in her face.
Blood spurted down her nose, stained her teeth as she gasped to regain her breath. Feet swiped at her own and the wind was knocked straight of her lungs as she collided against solid ground.
Julius loomed over her, the tip of his sword pressed to her neck.
“You have a lot to learn,” he began, “if you want to survive the inevitable war.”
Shula blinked as tears threatened her eyes. Not because she lost, but because of the pain. Her back scraped against the ground, reminding her of the still healing wounds carved on her flesh.
And because Julius was right.
She’d turned a blind eye to it for so long, accepting the defeat of her kind. Things changed. Shula’s eyes were wide open now. She saw things she hadn’t known before. Like the Resistance, like Castle Aileach and all who resided there, wishing for a better future. She’d known and lost Orna, and she had suffered at the hands of the Brotherhood.
She’d thought the war was over because there weren’t any Fae left. It was a lie. There were still some, and she could tell by the burning fire in Julius’ eyes and fierce determination in the rest of her Fae companions that until the last of the Fae fell, the war would still wage on.
A war Shula was now inadvertently a part of.
She pushed the blade away from her neck with the back of her hand and stood to her feet. Determination burned inside her in an all-consuming flame that was hotter than her own fire and more painful than the wounds down her back.
She walked over to where the discarded sword lay and she picked it up, turning to face Julius once again.
If there was surprise at all inside him, he didn’t show.
Shula smirked at him and held up the sword and commanded with a single, fury-filled word.
“Again.”
34
The Faceless Emperor
The long, grueling days had a way of being forgotten when she was getting her ass kicked.
All she knew was exhaustion and the thrill of power through her veins every time she learned a little more,traineda little more.
Every morning before breakfast, Shula trained with each of the Fae men, sans Ryker and Valerio, though that was no surprise. Ryker didn’t want anything to do with her and that was fine. Besides, training with Ryker would be too… intimate.
That was something she didn’t want. With either Fae.
Because training with the others was a close and personal affair. Sometimes with swords, sometimes with shields, sometimes with both. Other times it was with no weapons at all other than fists. And magic? She still wasn’t comfortable enough to use magic, and they hadn’t asked her yet. Either because of her own cowardice, or because they’d seen her destruction firsthand.
For now, she was content with dominating the other things first.
It was always rough and painful. There were no inhibitions when it came to her training. She sported dozens of bruises and bloody noses, scraped palms and elbows. Her muscles ached every morning and felt worse every night. But inside? Inside, Shula felt powerful. It was the only thing preventing her from asking Ryker to heal her wounds. That and she couldn’t imagine him bearing anymore of scars that weren’t his to bear.
Among her personal training with Clay, there was a moment where she had wrestled him to the ground, pinning him beneath her thighs and locking him in a chokehold. He never trained her with swords, and she wondered if it was some perverted delight on his end. He never got handsy; in fact, he was the perfect gentleman, never touching her in places he shouldn’t, but their bodies were always pressed so close, and Shula felt deep in her bones that Clay thought in his deranged mind he was irritating Ryker by doing it.
It couldn’t be the farthest thing from the truth.
It didn’t stop Clay from trying, though.
Days converged into weeks, it felt like, and everything was the same routine. They were cautious, but there was no trouble, though if there was, Shula was confident she could take anyone on. She felt her strength growing every day, but there was still a restlessness inside her that stirred and slithered like a living entity.
Until the day Valerio tried to assuage it.
Shula heard the roar of the Arcana before she saw it. Her feet almost stumbled to a stop. “What are we doing here?” she demanded, looking from face to face.
Julius was the only one who replied, manic glee twisting his smile so he looked almost feral. “We’re here for therealfun.”
