Page 64 of Tempest Blazing
I kicked off my shoes, the cool mats solid under my feet. Good thing I'd worn clothes I could move in. Mason had already shed his boots and stood a few feet away, rolling his shoulders. His tank top revealed those corded muscles and the faint shimmer of tattoos running down his left side. For a moment, I was distracted. The sharp clap of his hands yanked me back.
"Focus, Tess," Mason said, his voice a low rumble. His lips quirked—the faintest crack in his stone-faced calm. "We're starting with defensive maneuvers."
I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "Defensive? Can't we skip to the part where I throw you across the room?"
His smirk deepened, warmth flickering in those intense eyes. "You'll get your chance. But first, you need to learn how not to end up flat on your back."
"Great," I muttered. "Can't wait."
He stepped closer, his presence like gravity—grounding without crushing. "Use your size to your advantage," he said, his tone firm but patient. "You're fast, but you rely too much on brute force. That's not going to work against someone bigger or stronger."
"Like you?" I challenged, a grin tugging at my lips despite myself.
"Exactly like me," he said, gesturing for me to come at him.
The first few rounds were a disaster. Mason moved like water around my attacks, every step silent and precise. Frustration built with each miss, but Mason stayed unshakable, coaching me through every stumble.
Each failed strike only strengthened my resolve. This was what the Guild expected—precision, control, adaptation under pressure. I wouldn't be vulnerable. Wouldn't give them any reason to doubt I belonged.
"Good," he said after I managed to dodge one of his grabs and land a light tap on his arm. "You're getting faster."
"Thanks," I panted, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "But you're still kicking my ass."
"That's the point," he said, stepping back and crossing his arms. His focus was steady, unrelenting. "You're learning."
We circled each other, feet shuffling against the mat. I could feel the bond humming between us, sharpening my reflexes, making each movement feel more fluid.
I feinted left, then snapped my right leg up aimed for his jaw. Mason caught my ankle mid-strike, his grip firm but controlled. I twisted free, using the momentum to spin and drive my elbow toward his ribs. He blocked, but I felt the impact resonate through his guard. Progress.
"Again," Mason said, voice steady as ever. He hadn't even broken a sweat.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're holding back."
One corner of his mouth quirked up—barely a smile. "You're improving."
"That's not an answer," I shot back, lunging forward with a series of quick jabs—left, right, left—forcing him to weave backward. My foot swept low, catching his ankle. Not enough to topple him, but enough to make him stumble. Small victory.
"Better," he admitted, tone giving nothing away.
We kept going, intensity building. Each strike felt crisper. The bond seemed to anticipate Mason's movements, feeding me information I shouldn't have had—the shift in his weight before he moved, the tension in his shoulders before he struck. It wasn't until I managed to land a solid hit against his shoulder that he finally called for a break.
I bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Sweat stung my eyes, and my heart hammered like it was trying to escape my ribcage. Mason stood a few feet away, arms crossed,watching me with that same calm intensity. Not judgmental. Patient. Always waiting.
"I'm stronger," I said, more to myself than him. "And faster." I straightened, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Is it the training?"
Mason hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting mine. "It's the bond," he admitted. "Completing it enhanced your physical capabilities. Part of what happens when we're connected like this."
The words hit me like a physical thing, settling deep in my chest. The mate bond—still such a foreign concept, yet undeniably real. I could feel it even now, that invisible tether humming with shared energy, making me more than I'd been before. Undeniable. Exhilarating. Terrifying.
"So this is all because of you?" I teased, nervous laughter escaping. "Guess I owe you one."
He snorted softly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Not all me. You've been working hard. The bond just helps."
I wasn't sure how to feel about that—grateful for the advantage, or frustrated that I needed it. The Guild valued strength above all else, and if the bond made me stronger, I'd use every bit of that power. I couldn't afford to be weak.
Instead of voicing those thoughts, I followed his lead when he gestured for us to sit. The mat felt cool against my overheated skin as I settled cross-legged across from him. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"Do you think the bond will help you become a Dragon Rider?" I asked, curious about how it affected him.
