“There’s hope for you yet,” I said. “If you can see me like that.”

He ducked in close, tried to hook my waist, but missed. His grin widened. He was enjoying this, and… so was I.

“I see you.” A mix of emotions roughened his voice—honesty, sarcasm. Sunlight spangled through the pines, casting faery lights on the littered ground. Harmless light and unlike the threat glittering in Mace’s eyes, a threat from his golden wolf.

The wolf liked violence and the physicality in fighting, although the image was not as clear as it was with Grayson. I only sensed the wolf in Mace… but in that distracted instant, Mace had me on my stomach, his body pinning me with enough weight to make it hard to breathe.

“You’re dead again,” he snarled, his mouth against my ear. “Or captured because you’re probably too valuable to kill. Now… get up.”

His fingers clenched my wrists before he levered upward and rolled away. I scrambled to my knees and lunged toward his legs to knock him off balance. He avoided my attack, turning to face me.

“Pathetic, Noa. The witches will be laughing.”

“I didn’t think I’d be fighting witches.”

“That’s your flaw. You don’t think. You assume you’re still in the human world.” His hands were up, his fingers flicking with invitation as we circled. “Can you draw energy through anything other than your hands?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only felt heat in my hands, moving up my arms.”

“What if an enemy covered your hands? Gloves would blunt your ability.”

“Better than cement shoes,” I said because I’d foolishly never thought about it.

“Either way, you’ll lose.” He laughed when I hissed. “Multiple options, Noa. Find more than one way to manipulate the energy.”

“Easy words for you to say.”

“Hard words for you to hear.” Mace moved in again. His massive body was more agile than I expected, but I respected his strength and what he was teaching me. My arm jerked upward to deflect his momentum, using the energy to slide past him.

“Trying to annoy me, Mace?” Heat tingled in my fingers and I clawed through the air, just enough to send a spurt of dirt toward his face.

He swiped the grit away and grinned. “You’re such a child.”

“Then why are you even here?”

“I have a thing about lambs and slaughter. Unless I’m doing the killing.”

“Sending me was your idea,” I reminded him. “Not ready to slaughter me yet?”

“He wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m not completely helpless. I do have some control.”

“How many wildflowers would agree with that?”

His movements were inhumanly fast, but I kept up with him and ignored the verbal sparring meant to distract me. Instead, I threw a verbal punch of my own. “Mosbach has no respect for you. He sees you licking Grayson’s boots.”

A flash of disgust crossed Mace’s face, and I almost missed the pain that flashed in his eyes. But I caught enough to make me sick to my stomach for that comment. And I couldn’t take it back because Mace was already in attack mode.

“Mosbach played you, Noa.”

“So I’ve been informed.”

This time, when Mace lunged, I let him get me to the ground, then kicked out with both heels, catching his groin. He stiffened long enough for me to scoot free.

But what churned in my head were thoughts of Mosbach, touching my knee like he had the right. Threatening to have the vampires take the catalyst away. Telling me how a rabbit screamed when it was skinned alive.

It wasn’t at the first cut… but after the ripping began…