by Alix Sharpe
Oh right, because she was a giddy moron who just wanted an excuse to stay and fawn over her hunky, unavailable trainer. He had straight up come out and said he didn’t want her. He didn’t want to give her the ‘wrong idea’… and then all that weird stuff about boundaries and crossing lines. It made sense, after what happened with his first student… but that wasn’t his fault. Not really. It sounded like he’d made it clear things weren’t going to work out. A sharp pang churned in her gut. It wasn’t the hangover.
Then again… that was just his side of the story. What if he’d really made that girl believe? What if he’d told Myra he loved her, just to get into her pants? What if he was just a super suave, convincing liar, just like her Ex? She would be an idiot to take anything he said at face value.
But, at the same time. He’d been crying, hadn’t he? She could have sworn he was. She didn’t want to look at him face-on for fear he’d get self-conscious and stop talking, but she was nearly positive she saw him wiping away tears. Plus, he conjured his cat of sorrow. How sinister could he be if he hung out with an imaginary cat for comfort? Then again, maybe he was just a drunk crier.
He probably, hopefully, wouldn’t remember any of it anyway. She took another gulp of water. Well, whatever had happened last night, she needed to put it behind her and get back to training.
She somehow made it through breakfast without vomiting. By the time she made it back to Hale’s tent, she was starting to feel human again. He, apparently, was not.
“Everything hurts,” he groaned, blinking at her through the hard morning light beaming in at his face through the gaps in the canvas. Even pathetically hungover, he looked magnificent.
“If those Elves ever wise up they’re going to attack us the morning after a feast,” Keira said, sitting down on the side of Hale’s cot. The urge to lay back down next to him was almost overwhelming. Oh, how she would love to have those strong, hard arms wrapped around her tight…
“Can you just go find an Elf to take me out right now?”
“Oh shut up,” Keira said, “don’t say that. Here sit up.”
Hale grunted in protest. Geez he was cute when he pouted. She was about two seconds away from crawling under those covers with him. Where were these insane ideas coming from? One evening with the guy and she was acting like a lovesick idiot. She had to get him to stop making that adorable face.
“Hale, sit up,” she said, “Or else I’ll read your thoughts. You’re probably on the edge of consciousness right now, right?”
Hale bolted upright and immediately clutched his head between his knees.
“Evasive maneuver?” she asked, secretly relieved that she could no longer ogle those big green eyes.
“Evading vomit, not your mind-reading capabilities. But I don’t really want that either now that you’ve threatened it.”
“Here”, Keira said, digging in her pack as she regained composure. “Eat this.”
She nudged Hale in the side and attempted to force a piece of bread on him.
“Uh-uh,” he whimpered.
“You’ll feel better after,” she said.
He lifted his head slightly, opening his mouth just enough to take a tiny nibble. He gagged and put his head back between his knees. “Nope. Too dry.”
“Try this,” she said, lifting the bottle from the night stand, unscrewing the cap. The scent slammed her in the face, her own queasy stomach rearing its head. Good, that would help calm her raging, uninvited libido.
“Are you trying to make me hurl on you?”
“Hair of the dog,” she said.
“That’s total BS you know, it just gets you drunk again.”
“Would you rather be drunk or hungover?”
“Fine,” he said, snatching the bottle away. He downed it in one go. “But when I feel 10 times worse, you’re carrying me back to my tent.”
“That’s why I intend to try to force feed you food and water and hope that staves off a rebound hangover.”
“I can see why you wanted to become an accountant, not a doctor,” he grumbled.
“I never wanted to be an accountant, I kinda got forced into it. My real Plan B was astronomy. I secretly minored in it. My mom doesn’t know. My mom doesn’t know a lot of things.” But now Hale knew. Why the hell was she telling him all this? Oh right, because she was crushing hard and easily distracted.
“Astronomy huh? That seems like the exact opposite of accounting.”
“Exactly. Accounting puts shit in boxes, astronomy shows you the boxes don’t even matter.”
“How nihilistic of you,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t act like someone who finds everything meaningless.”
“I don’t. I just find boxes meaningless. Confining. The point is…” she grinned, resolution swelling. Maybe she wanted Hale, but she wanted this more. Saying it out loud would get her back on track. “I don’t want to be an accountant. I want to be a warrior. So get your ass up and teach me.”
CHAPTER 8 – HALE
Hale slumped lower against the wall of the quarry as he aimed another small rock at her. She dodged that one too. He was too pained (and drunk) to stand up and physically throw projectiles at her today, so he had to resort to using his magic instead.
“Hey, why is this so easy for you?” she asked, holding up her hands in a ‘T’ for ‘timeout’.
“Why’s what so easy?” he said, taking another sip of water. He winced at the cold on his tongue.
“That first day, when you stopped the Elf, you fell to the ground. Like it took everything out of you.”
“That’s because I was using my magic on the Elf directly. Things with free will fight back, it’s a lot harder to control them.”
“But not impossible?”
“No,” he said, “but I’d rather just throw weapons at my target. It’s much easier and takes a lot less strength. I only attacked the Elf directly because I knew you’d be dead if I missed.”
“So you could like pick me up and throw me if you wanted to?”
“Are you about to do something to try to provoke me into that?” he asked, wary. It was likely she was joking, but at the same time, she was going full bore with this training. If she thought it would help her somehow, she might try it.
“No,” she said, “I prefer not to be thrown. But really, you have the power to make me do anything you want?”
For some reason, the thought of magically coaxing her to strip down naked flashed in his mind. He shook his head. Such a weird question. Was it possible she was baiting him just to throw him off his game? Just like he’d try to do with that kiss?
“Like what?” he ventured, leaning his head back on the rock behind him.
“I’m sure you have a vivid imagination,” she said, shooting him a devilish smirk. She was toying with him.
“Is timeout over?” he said, “I think you need to focus on your training instead of ways to make me feel uncomfortable.”
“Just keeping you on your toes,” she said.
“You’re supposed to be the one on your toes.” Or on your back, if I had my way. Shit. He really shouldn’t have drunk the rest of that bottle. Last night was one thing, he’d been in a different mindset, but now, watching her dance around the quarry in nothing but shorts and a sports bra, her amulet pinned between her breasts, sweat gleaming off her perfect milky skin… Fuck. Maybe he’d tease her back, just a little. Teach her to expect the unexpected. All for the sake of her training.
He flicked his fingers towards a small fallen tree branch nearby.
“You’re not going to throw that thing at me, are you?” she said, placing a hand on her hip.
God, he wanted to touch those hips.
“That thing is huge,” she said.
He bit back an immature chuckle.
“No, I wasn’t planning on throwing it at you,” he said, mischievous lilt to his voice as he levitated the branch towards her. “Come on, use your powers. What am I going to do next?”
As soon as
she closed her eyes he took his shot. He pulled back the branch and swatted it across her ass.
She leapt slightly, opening her eyes.
“I could have guessed you’d do that without using my Sight,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “That was easy. Boys are always thinking about sex on some level.”
“That wasn’t sexual,” he lied. Unconvincingly, judging by the little smirk forming on her face.
“Sure,” she said, flipping her long, shiny sheet of black hair over one shoulder. “If that wasn’t sexual, then what is?”
“Are you asking me to tell you what I’d do if I were actually trying to seduce you?”
“I’m asking you to show me.”
“I don’t think we should try that,” he said, attempting (unsuccessfully) to pull his gaze away from her taut waistline. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to be having these thoughts.
“I just want to see your moves. Prove you aren’t as predictable as I imagine you are,” she said. “Come on, make this interesting for me. I won’t take it the wrong way, I promise. It’s not like you’re actually touching me, it’s just for fun.”
He studied her for a moment, watching her stretch one arm behind her back and then the other. Why was this such a big deal? He was a natural flirt, he did crap like this all the time. Hell, he had just spanked her. And he was the one who had kissed her on their first day of training, why was this different? And like she said, he wasn’t actually touching her.
“Okay,” he said, dropping the branch, ignoring the tiny alarms going off in his brain. “Weird training exercise but I guess it’s the same principle as battle. I’ll do three moves.”
“Am I allowed to use my Sight?”
“Of course,” he said, glancing around the quarry, formulating his next move. “You’ve got the fundamentals down, let’s ratchet this up, sharpen your Sight.”
“Game on then,” she said, flipping her hair again.
She walked over, placed a foot on either side of him, straddling his legs as he sat on the ground, and closed her eyes. He looked up at her standing above him like that and had to fight with everything he had not to reach up and grab her ass. God, he wanted to just pull her down on top of him, peel those shorts off, and…
What was he doing? He shouldn’t be doing this. This was dangerous.
“I’m waiting,” she said, eyes squeezed shut, hands on her hips.
It’s okay. This was different. She knew what this was. She might look innocent, but she understood. If she weren’t his student, would he even have stopped to think?
“I’m thinking,” he said, gazing up the silken smooth skin of her calf. Those legs. They begged for attention.
He patted around on the ground, searching, trying to locate the perfect tool. If only he could use his hands instead. His fingertips brushed across a slick, flat stone, as wide as his palm and warm to the touch. That would work.
He twisted his fingers and lifted the stone into the air. The magic pulsed between his surrogate touch and his amulet, heat pricking in his chest as he hovered the rock just over her skin. The stone kissed down just above her ankle.
He glanced up to gauge her reaction. She’d tucked her lips in, biting back a smile.
He fought his own grin as he turned his attention back to the shimmering stone pressed against her leg. Exhaling, he carefully, deliberately began to slide the warm rock up her inner calf.
She shifted a little under the sensation, giggling for a moment as it brushed over the ticklish skin of her knee.
He bit his lip and continued pushing the stone upward. His power swirled blue around her exquisite thighs, the rock climbing her skin in sweet ascent. He stopped just at the edge of the leg of her shorts and kept the stone in place as she slowly opened her eyes.
A lazy half-smirk rolled across her lips. “I knew you’d go for the legs first,” she teased. “That’s why I put them right in front of you. I didn’t even have to use my Sight.”
He let out a short laugh. Okay, fair enough, he should have expected she’d pull something like that. He lowered the stone back to the ground. “Are you sure you’re not a Mage? That was some masterful manipulation there. But I still have two tries.”
“So confident. Ready then?”
“Almost,” he said, casting around for his next tool. “Okay. Close your eyes.”
He swept his fingers and scooped up a dried swatch of grass, the once-pert blades now soft, yet stiff.
The fibers scratched together making a slight rustling sound as he levitated the ball of grass in a sparkling azure swirl. He brought the tendrils to the midline of her chest, just below her sports bra, and let the very tips of the grass whisper between her ribs.
She shivered almost imperceptibly.
Whether it was because he’d caught her off guard or simply the sensation on its own, he didn’t care. This wasn’t about winning anymore, this was about making her squirm.
He languidly let the pieces slide down the center of her core, drifting down the middle of her abdomen, tracing the gentle dip of her bellybutton. When he reached the waistband of her shorts, he split the bundle of grass in half and flicked the blades outward into two fan shapes. He drew them gently towards her hip bones, trailing them as he would his own ten fingers if given the chance.
An involuntary moan bubbled up from the back of his throat and escaped his lips before he could push it back down. He snapped out of his enchantment in surprise at himself, dropping the wads of grass at her feet.
She let out a soft, demure laugh. “Guess you surprised yourself,” she smiled, biting her lip. “But you didn’t surprise me. I Saw it. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a nice move though.”
“Dammit,” he smirked, studying her hips, eyes unapologetically hungry. He’d given himself away with that moan. He didn’t need to pretend he wasn’t enjoying this anymore. It could have been the alcohol, but suddenly, he didn’t care about holding back.
“You can’t win,” she said.
“We’ll see. I still have one more move.”
CHAPTER 9 – KEIRA
Though she projected a calm, cool exterior, Keira Clearwater’s insides churned vigorously, a tempest of nerves… and temptation. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She didn’t know how she’d even suggested it, she’d just kind of blurted it out. Clearly Suave-Keira had come out to play, Awkward-Keira was on break. It’s not like either Keira was scared of men. For better or worse, she’d changed drastically in that respect, ever since… But still, commanding an authority figure to feel her up was a bold move, even for her.
She may have looked like the one in charge, but gazing down at his hard muscles curving under his sensuous deep-amber skin, at the flicker of mischief in those piercing yellow-green tiger eyes… it took the full measure of her strength not to lower herself down on top of him, unbuckle his pants, slide her shorts aside…
“Ready?” he panted.
Fuck. That voice. Just the sheer rawness of it, downright dripping with evidence of his arousal. She couldn’t even respond without betraying the effect it was having on her.
She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and nodded.
At first the colors flickered across the edges of her mind, like always, or at least when her Sight wanted to cooperate. For some reason, her visions seemed to come in stronger around him. Then came the auras, previews, of the vision about to reveal itself to her. This one shimmered purple and gold, just like the last, a promise of indulgent, carnal energy. Then the outlines appeared, silhouettes of his ethereal form and hers, projections of their physical bodies a few moments into the future. At first, the shadows of their bodies simply sat, just as they were now. Next, he’d take his hands…
Then something shifted. The purple and gold etches morphed into a deep crimson red, the hue of pure danger. She felt her stomach drop back in her physical body and she struggled to stay connected to the vision. She had to see what it was. Was another Elf approaching? Would someone get hurt? No. It wasn’t an Elf. It was Hal
e.
Her eyes flew open, breaking the link to the vision, just as he slid his hand up, bringing it to rest between her shoulder blades. Not there. He couldn’t touch her there.
She jerked away, heart slamming against her ribs, uninvited tears pooling in her eyes.
He leapt back, raising his hands. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have… are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking uncontrollably. “Don’t touch me.”
She folded her arms around herself and just started walking.
At first her brain was moving too fast to process what had happened, why she’d reacted that way. Then, as she left Hale further behind, clarity began to flicker in, just like her visions. It wasn’t about Hale Draven at all.
It was about him. Her Ex. Hunter. A spill of blackness flooded her chest, sending her crashing to her knees, breath coming in faint, pathetic gasps, as the terrifying notion roiled through her: what if it was always going to be about him?
It had been 2 years. She’d thought she was finally over it. Now she was paralyzed by the thought that she might never be. What if he was still inside her, his scars so deep they marred her soul? What if every time she stood a chance of happiness, he’d appear, bleeding the twisted memory of him into everything she could try to do to forget? If only she’d listened to those nightmares, maybe then he wouldn’t plague her dreams.
Keira didn’t even see Hale’s shadow until he sunk to his knees beside her. His hand hovered over her shoulder for a second, but apparently, he decided against touching her again, placing it on the damp grass beside her.
“Here,” he said, gold-green eyes oddly glossy, “drink this.” He tried to hand her a water bottle.
She couldn’t summon the strength the unclench her fingers from her knees to reach for it.
He waited, watching, the tension in his own body palpable. Inextricably linked to hers. That look in his eyes. He wouldn’t hurt her. He was trying to help.
