Page 39 of To Charm a Dark Prince

He placed the point of a claw beneath her chin and used it to tilt her head up to look at him. “You can. You just did. Feel its movement. Predict it. Anticipate. Move with it.” He lowered his hand back to his side. “It is a part of you—this raging battle. But do not think of it as an opponent. Think of it as a partner you are sparring with. An ally.”

Letting out a breath, she shut her eyes. Because of her anxiety, she always felt like she was living in a barn with a family of rabid hyperactive squirrels. They were always jabbering and chittering, running amok and causing problems. But now that she had some weird elemental force inside of her, the squirrels had turned into giant badgers. And not the cute British ones either. The nasty American ones. And they were on fire. The mental image of flaming badgers made her snicker.

“Focus, girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She took another deep breath, held it, and let it out in a rush. The power felt like an itch in her, a strange sensation that she hadn’t had the chance to notice the last time she had burst into flame. It was like the need to run—the need to be free or to do. “It makes me antsy.”

“You are a fire elemental. You wish to burn. Of course it makes you restless. Control it.”

“Easier said than done…”

“I believe you have yet to try. So far, you’ve only complained.”

She wanted to say something snippy back at him, but figured it was a waste of time. And he was probably right, anyway. She studied the feeling again. And she did exactly as he’d been teaching her to do the past hour or so. She saw it for what it was. Saw it move.

And instead of fighting it…she moved with it.

She shivered as suddenly she was cold again. Blinking her eyes open, she looked down at herself, and saw her skin was now normal. Laughing in disbelief, she examined her hands. “Hey! Look at that!”

“Yes, it is almost as though I know what I am talking about.” His armor dissolved into him, leaving him in his black linen shirt and black pants. He was smiling down at her.

Acting out of impulse, she hugged him. Her arms barely reached around his waist. The dude was a damn tank. “Thank you.”

He froze. Locked solid for a split second. After a moment, he rested a hand—a normal hand, without the claws for once—atop her head. “You are welcome, firefly.”

Stepping away from him, she winced. Now the adrenaline was fading, every ache was making itself known. “I hurt. A lot.”

Mordred paid her a small, soft smile. “I never said this would be easy.”

Shivering, she went back to the table where her normal, warmer clothes were resting. She gestured for him to turn around, and he did as she requested. Changing back, she was glad to have the extra layer of fabric on. Especially with how he watched her when she was wearing just the chainmail. “Done.”

There was tenderness in his expression, but it was mixed with a hunger she didn’t know what to do with. The two at once made her feel both excited and nervous. So, she was very eager to tie up her sandals if it meant she could avoid eye contact for a few seconds.

“We will train again tomorrow. You may have learned to extinguish yourself, but that is only the beginning.”

“Oh, great.” She stood, feeling her back twinge in revolt from the movement. “At least I’ll get in shape while I’m here.”

“I suspect you shall.” He walked up to her, and she froze like a deer in the headlights.

Mordred placed the metal necklace back around her neck, and she felt it click shut. “I do hope you forgive the precaution.”

“Here I was thinking you just like me wearing this stupid thing to mess with me.” It was a bad attempt at teasing him. She needed to lighten the mood and dispel the tension.

“It is convenient, I will admit.” To prove his point, he hooked a finger into the front of it and tugged her closer to him. For a moment, he looked as though he was going to kiss her.

And she wanted him to.

With another faint smile, he walked away. “Come. Gather your things. I believe I owe you a stiff drink and a long story.” And just like that, he was gone.

Pressing the heels of her palms into her cheekbones, she let out an exasperated groan and followed him. She was getting herself in too deep. But the disappointment when he hadn’t kissed her had been almost visceral.

But the idea of finally having answers spurred her into action, jogging after him to catch up. The bastard had long legs.

At least soon enough she’d know why everybody hated him so much.

Because except for the foreboding appearance and being a littlesevere, she couldn’t figure out why he had such a lousy reputation.

Or why he was single.

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