Page 18 of Powerful

But here he is, breath on my neck and calloused hands cupping my hips. I can’t help but memorize the moment, study the feelings he stirs inside of me. Feelings for someone so annoyingly aggravating. Someone so opposite my very being.

I clear my throat.

It’s completely ridiculous, really. I’ve only known this man a handful of days and am already absurdly affected by his every move. It truly is a curse to feel so deeply, to so daringly deem someone worthy of my affection.

Mama always did say I was much too eager for my own good. My impatience ensures that I won’t gradually fall for someone. Instead, I lose my balance, tripping until I face-plant into inevitable failure.

‘Again, Dena.’

I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Dena.

The usual indifference he wears falters when I whip my head round to face him. I can see the realization in the way his brown eyes widen in time with my own, in the feel of his body tensing against mine.

No one but Pae has ever cared enough to call me by anything but my given name. Until now, that is.

The name itself feels like a caress, stilling my pounding heart as though he’s run figurative fingers down it. Warmth floods my body at the sound, at the sheer implication of the word. Because it was formed by familiarity.

Nicknames blossom between acquaintance and something more. Though, I’m not sure where we stand on that spectrum. Or perhaps I’m being completely absurd and am completely overthinking everything—

I’m suddenly being spun around with firm hands that have found their way to my waist. My lower back bumps into the wooden table, trapping me against the distracting density of him.

He gives me that look. The one where he tilts his head down with a dull twist of his lips. ‘I hope it was your fighting technique you were daydreaming about.’

I tilt my head up, apparently unable to keep my eyes from tracing the scar cutting his lips. ‘What else would possibly be on my mind?’ I smile, each word breathy.

‘You tell me.’ He leans in, bracing his hands on the table either side of me. I feel his arms brushing my sides and curse myself for the lack of self-restraint I possess.‘You’re looking far more fidgety than normal. I can’t say I enjoy it.’

I clear my throat before pasting a smile onto my face, pretending as though I’m not suddenly thinking of him as something more than a begrudging partner. ‘Guess I just can’t contain my excitement for this very enjoyable training you’re forcing me to do!’

He blinks, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘All right, remind me to teach you how to lie next.’ I nod before his hands find my hips once again, sending a shock all the way down to my toes. ‘Now, keep swinging until I’m satisfied you could hit me.’

I punch. His fingers grip my hips.

I punch. His hand flattens against my back.

I punch. His lips almost form a smile.

And so begins my doomed trip into Mak.

CHAPTER 7Makoto

‘Stop laughing. This isn’t funny.’

She giggles again in a way that makes it hard to stay angry – even for me. But when the needle’s point finds the tip of my finger once again, I toss the fabric aside with a huff.

‘Oh, please, don’t give up.’ The look of disappointment on her face almost makes me reconsider. ‘Look at how far you’ve come!’

‘What, you mean the twelve crooked stitches?’ I lift the scrap of fabric for proof. ‘Yeah, I’m clearly a prodigy.’

She presses her lips together, fighting an aggravating smile. It’s become increasingly less so over the pastcouple of days. But I’d rather not think on that at the moment.

‘Look, it’s only fair that you try my thing after putting me through yours yesterday,’ she states while stitching a pant seam with ease. ‘For hours.’

‘Don’t be dramatic.’ I sigh. ‘Besides, at least mythingwill help you defend yourself.’

Adena points her needle at me. ‘You haven’t seen me wield this thing yet.’

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