Page 21 of A Kiss of Embers
With a silent glare, Seraphina grabbed his ankle and dragged him forward with a grunt. “This ring hasn’t charged all the way. You are heavy.”
“I assure you,” he replied with a wicked grin, “it’s all muscle.”
She stopped momentarily to glower at him before she kicked him in the side.
“Ow!”
“I recommend you remain silent. No one wants to hear you speak.”
Pine needles softened the blow of getting dragged, but the jostle of each of her steps pulled on his wound. He winced but refused to allow her to witness the agony in his expression. Instead, he lifted his lips in a merciless grin as his gaze dipped to her backside, the shape flattering beneath the fall of her dress, nearly hidden behind green wings he could have mistaken for enormous leaves.
“At least I have a good view from here.”
Seraphina’s head turned sharply until she glared fiercely at him over her shoulder. She dropped his leg, which landed with athumpon the ground, circled him, and grabbed him by the wrist instead. She stooped and yanked him closer to her eye level until he noticed the faint sheen on her otherwise matte black lips.
“I am flattered you enjoy my figure so much.” Her lip curled in a snarl. “Now you get to admire the dirt.”
Again, she yanked his arm, pulling painfully on his shoulder socket, before dragging him once more. Thankfully, his back found reprieve from the harsh patches of rocks and wood chips. But his legs weren’t so lucky.
He sighed heavily as he stared at the passing trees, bushes, and small pockets of running river water. The leaves were starting to take on a redder hue, signaling the start of fall. As he turned his head in an attempt to glance over his shoulder, he noticed the sway of Seraphina’s wings once more. They, too, took on a more reddish tint as if changing with the seasons.
Incredible.
But absolutely annoying.
He scoffed as he challenged the stare of a tree in front of him, slowly moving out of sight. “You rely heavily on your potent poisons. In a real fight, you would never have beaten me.”
“In a real fight, hmm?” It seemed as if she couldn’t help but respond to his goading. “I bested four of your own. I’m quite certain in a real fight, you would be on your knees, begging for mercy.”
“Give me back the use of my limbs, and we’ll find out for certain.”
Something like a mixture of a huff and a laugh reached his ears. “Do you want me to stab you again? Quiet.”
His lips twitched as he realized she was close to her breaking point. Only a little more provoking… “So you are saying without your powder, your poisons, and your magic, you can best me in hand-to-hand combat? I’m quite sure I proved you wrong, and I only had one arm available to me.”
Her fingernails dug into his wrist. “Do you never stop talking?” the woman growled. “I’m getting tired of hearing you yap.”
“The only way to get me to stop is with your mouth.”
Faster than he managed to blink, Seraphina dropped his arm, jumped on top of him, and held a dagger against the soft flesh of his throat. The orange in her eyes danced like fire, burning with her anger and seeming to grow hotter through her hand and into the blade pressed against his neck.
He held perfectly still, afraid the smallest movement might cut him.
The fae woman’s wings flared out on either side of her, both a magnificent and terrifying sight when paired with the fire of hatred literally burning in her eyes.
“Not another word from you, Bastien,” she snarled. “You don’t need your lips in order to bemostlyintact. Tempt me one more time.”
“So youdoknow my name,” he rasped.
She shoved his shoulders and stood, tucking her blade into the strap on her thigh. His gaze followed her movements. The way her bare feet padded against the soft earth. The way her calves flexed when she stood on her toes as if absently navigating the terrain. The way the black scales on her shoulders rippled against the sunlight, matching the sheen of black in each strand of her hair.
Why did his worst enemy have to be so blazing beautiful?
He hated it.
He hatedher.
The burning hatred flared within his chest when she snatched his limp wrist from the ground and dragged him forward once again. The Ember Queen had almost killed Ashryn. That was unforgivable. On day one of patrol training, they were taught how to fall. Starting from a lower branch until they learned from the very top of a tree in the Attleglade forest. If Ashryn hadn’t received such training, she likely would have been dead or so broken as to be hardly recognizable.
