Page 25 of Hunted By Wolves and Shadow
“Break’s over, witchling.” Wolf stood with his hand out to pull me up again. “Time to work.”
I scowled, but let him help me up. He looked surprised when I willingly took his hand. I didn’t realize it was the first time I’d accepted his gesture until my hand was already clasped in his. Warm callouses rubbed the outside of my thumb, leaving it tingling when he let go.
“Right. Feet apart. Hands up to block your face.”
“Not the couch cushion again,” I said as he raised it to swing at me. I’d been beaten senseless by that couch over the past few days, and I now hated it even more when I had to sleep on it at night. Because yes, he kept besting me there too, stealing the bedroom before I could claim it.
Wolf’s lips pursed, then he threw the cushion down again. “Sure. How about you hit me, then?”
He laughed when my eyes flew wide. “You’re going to let me hit you?”
“Of course not. But I’ll let you try, and maybe you can wear out some of this frustrated energy that has you wound so tight.”
“You’d be frustrated too if you were trapped with such a boar-headed housemate.”
“Who says I’m not?”
I aimed my fist at his nose as hard and fast as I could. The annoying clod caught it without so much as flinching and used my own momentum to pull me into his hard chest. My fist was pinned between us, trapped against the heat of his body over his heart. I could feel it thudding away, racing as fast as mine.
“Do you know where you went wrong?” he asked.
“I neglected to grab the knife before attacking you,” I suggested archly.
His lips twitched, so close to me they were in line with my eyes. All he had to do was tilt his head down and they’d meet mine. I jolted backward. Where in the blue skies had that thought come from?
“I was going to say you dropped your other hand. Plus it was incredibly obvious what you were going to do.”
I huffed. “Yes, apparently everything about me is obvious, and you know everything, and I’m completely predictable. This is hopeless.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You surprise me constantly.”
“I—I do?”
“Mmhmm.” He was looking at me strangely, with that same softness around his mouth that I’d only seen when he talked about his people.
But that was crazy. I was merely caught up in the heady feeling of having someone’s attention on me for days on end. It had nothing to do with Wolf in particular, or the way he always watched me like I was someone powerful and worthy of respect. I was imagining things that weren’t there. Grief. Stress. That had to be it.
“Stop frowning and fix this stance.” Bringing his other hand to my right hip, Wolf pushed it back so my body was at an angle to his. Then he raised the fist he still held so that it was between our faces. I inhaled sharply, unaware how we’d been staring unbroken until that instant.
Skies of blue, I needed to get a grip. If there were anyone I was going to let myself dream would care about me, it most certainly was not going to be him. I needed to focus on the problem in front of me so I could escape this place and Wolf’s strange influence.
“You’re left-handed. So keep this hand in front of your face, left leg ahead of your right and hips angled. Drive the punch off your back leg.” He always made adjustments for me, always remembered my dominant hand since that first time I tried to stab him.
“You’re still scowling, witchling.”
I didn’t know what to do with all these clouded thoughts. “I’m just channeling my anger so I can use it.”
“Nope. Don’t fight angry. That’s a good way to die.” He said it like I had any other choice when that ember burned bright in my chest. Like his words and being in his space didn’t set me on fire with it. “Take a deep breath in, and out,” he coached. “Forgetyour feelings about me and settle your mind, or you’ll never be able to fight me. You need focus for that, not rage.”
But I couldn’t focus. How could I when my head hurt and my chest ached, and they felt like they were pulling me in opposite directions? I was tearing apart. Sympathy one heartbeat, fury the next. Hot anger, then cool intrigue. I didn’t know whether to kill him or kiss him. And how could I want both?
I couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t! I can never forget what you’ve done. Don’t you think I want to forget all about you? How you feel against me? How you smell? The way your hair curls at your temples when you sweat? The precise shade of silver your eyes turn in the firelight?” I hated him for every one of the confessions that tumbled out of me. I hated the way it made my body burn with hot flames, and the way I wanted to walk away but I couldn’t.
I hated him as I threw myself into another attack, and when he deflected it with no more acknowledgment than a cautiously offered tip for where to put my feet, I hated him even more because I was starting to think I didn’t hate him nearly enough.
Chapter 12
Wolf
