Page 30 of Daughter of the Ninth Line: Part One

Handing back the schedule to Shay, I winked and sauntered back to my Soul Tie. I’d wanted so badly to bond her during our sexfest. I wanted to explain to her that she was mine, that my life was hers, why we felt what we did.

But I couldn’t, not yet. She needed time to learn that my feelings for her were genuine. That I wasn’t going anywhere, and she never needed to go back to those mountains to that drunk old fuck she called a father. I would introduce her to my family, to my Line, and they’d accept her. She’d have a family who loved her, who would have her back at all times against any foe.

Avalon smiled down at me from the top rail of the fence, and at that height, my shoulders fit perfectly between her thighs. “You know, this is quite a good height,” I mumbled and bit the inside of her thigh.

“Hayle!” she squealed, her cheeks flushing that pretty shade of pink that I adored. She slammed her thighs around my shoulders, burying her fingers in my hair and pulling my head up until I climbed the rails, making us face to face.

I kissed her lips gently. “You ready to see me avenge your honor?”

She snorted. “I can avenge my own honor, Hayle Taeme. But I will enjoy watching you bloody up that smug asshole. Show him he just doesn’t get to pick on those lower than him.”

I tilted my face toward her. “Kiss me again for good luck?”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned forward to kiss me in a way that I felt in my soul. Fuck, she was everything. Four days of insanely amazing sex could make anyone smitten, but it had reinforced what I already knew. She was my Soul Tie. The constant connection had just reinforced the bond.

She pulled out the ribbon that was holding her hair back. “In the old days, you’d give a token to your champion, so if you’re going to avenge my honor, I guess I better pay you in fake lace ribbons.” She tied it around my wrist, tucking in the ends so they didn’t get caught during the fight.

Ha, little did she know she was never getting this back. I’d tell her later that in the Third Line, this basically made us married. It wasn’t true, but I’d enjoy watching her sweat about it for a bit.

Someone whistled. “A-Side, to your rings!” The shout was amplified by magic, and I kissed her once more with a bit of tongue, before jumping down.

“Cheer for me,” I said with a wink and swaggered to my ring. Eugene sneered at me, and I just smirked in his direction. I hoped he was about to piss his pants.

“You fuckers know the rules,” Shay yelled. “To first blood. If you aim to maim, I will personally shove an icicle up your ass until you get a brain freeze.” I laughed, swallowing it down as she glared in my direction. “If you aren’t in your ring when I let up the starting flare, you forfeit, so don’t be fucking late.”

Someone raised their hand, and she turned her eyes on them in a hard glare. It was one of the Tenth Line kids. He must have been all of seventeen. “The Upper Lines are all wearing armor,which is disadvantageous to the rest of us. If this is until first blood and based on skill, shouldn’t we be all equally armored?”

Shay raised a brow at him, then looked over at Vox. He shrugged and took off his armor. “Sounds fair.”

Whatever, I doubted Eugene was going to get the point of his sword anywhere near me, let alone draw blood. I tossed my armor over the rope designating our ring.

Holding her finger in the air, Shay gave us all the stink eye one more time. “Remember,no magic.Anyone using magic will instantly forfeit, so keep it in your pants, fuckers. Ready?”

I twirled my sword in my hand, and Eugene lifted his own. The point shook a little, making me grin at him maniacally. “I’m going to make this hurt, you fuck. You’ll never even look at my girl again without pissing your pants.”

He sneered at me. “Whatever you want to dip your disgusting dick in is between you and the rest of your flea-infested Line,” he snarked back.

“GO!” Shay yelled, shooting an explosion of ice in the air that probably would’ve been beautiful, if I could see it.

Instead, I advanced on Eugene immediately. He was the cerebral type of fighter, all memorized forms and patterns. I fought with my instincts and my senses, by reading body language and relying on muscle memory from years of sparring and fighting.

He was already on the back foot, but he recovered quickly, swinging his sword in a solid counterattack. Solid wasn’t going to win him this battle.

I parried again and again, pushing him around the ring like I was playing with him. A cat and a mouse. A wolf and its prey. He was going to know what pain was like before the end of this. There were a hundred ways I could make him hurt without drawing blood and ending the round.

First, I got close, blocking his swing with mine and kicking him in the knee. His yell echoed around the training ring, but there was no blood, just a lot of fucking hurt.

I smirked down at him. “Want to forfeit? No shame in being a little bitch.”

“The only bitch here is that whore from the Ninth.”

I shook my head and tsked. “If you liked pain so much, Eugene, you should have just gotten someone to spank you and call you a naughty boy. This is a little extreme.” I put my foot into his gut, sending him sprawling backwards across the ring. The instructor watching us for first blood raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop the round. “Come on, Eugene. You’re Fourth Line, remember? Stop embarrassing the Upper Lines and get back on your feet to fight. Look, I’ll even go over here first.” I shuffled back toward the ropes.

Eugene, to his credit, struggled back to his feet, his face so red that it was almost purple. He charged at me then, his sword whirling in a wild and messy set of twirls that must have been hell to hold onto, but they were quite difficult to block. He was coming for my head now; shit had just gotten interesting.

I parried each blow, one after the other. He telegraphed his next move like he was shouting them at me, and it was easy enough to get him on the back foot again. One, two, three, and then I hooked my foot around his ankle, unbalancing him completely. He landed on his back, and I swung my sword down to point at his throat. The same place that Avalon had a small, pink mark from a healing wound that this asshole had put there.

I let all of the lighthearted fuckboy leave my face until he could see the monster underneath. “You hurt her, and that is unforgivable. Your days are numbered, Eugene Rovan.” I pressed down harder, until blood trickled and pooled into the indentation.

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