Page 68 of Dance of Devils
“I… I don’t know how to box.”
“This isn’t about boxing,” Kir says. “It's about conquering fear. Hands up.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Too bad.”
Withzerowarning, he surges right into my personal space, throwing a wild punch. I shriek, my heart hammering in my chest as I jump away from him.
“What thefuck?!”
Kir eyes me. “You’re scared when you dance. We’re addressing that today.”
I stare. “I’mscaredwhen a man twice my fucking size throws a punch?—”
“Language, Brooklyn.”
I bristle. But…fuck. It’shotthe way he says my name. Like a warning. Like a stern authority figure.
“I said I didn’t want to do this,” I hiss.
Kir lifts a muscled shoulder. “And I saidtoo bad.This is what we’re doing today. You can either put your hands up and learn how to deflect, or you can get knocked down.”
He lifts his gloves, his dark eyes burning into mine.
“I’m going to come at you now. What I needyouto do is not be afraid.”
I bark a laugh. “I won’t be, when you remember that this is fuckingballet?—”
“Language—”
“Yeah,got it,” I snap. “But this is ballet, not hand-to-hand combat.”
Kir shakes his head. “I’ve already told you. Ballet is war. It is merciless, and unforgiving, and it’s never going to wait for you tobe ready.”
He steps closer to me, invading my personal space. The heat of his body and his heady, masculine scent—clean, mixed with citrus and a hint of pine—sends my system spiraling.
“You’re averygood dancer,” he murmurs.
My face burns as my teeth sink into my bottom lip. “Thank you?—”
“I wasn’t finished.” He fixes me with a look. “Lotsof dancers are very good, Brooklyn. What’s holding you back from actual greatness is fear. Iwillbe removing that from you, one way or another.”
My brow furrows. “I’m not scared?—”
“Maybe not of dancing itself, or of me,” he continues. “But ofsomething. It dogs your steps, making you hesitate when there needs to be immediate action.”
My lips purse. I want to chalk this up to him being a tyrant on a power trip.
But…part of me deep inside knows this isn’t Kir trying to insult me, or “neg” me, or anything.
It's the truth.
It's harsh, hurtful, and ego-bruising…but itisthe truth.
Idohesitate. I know that. There are moments where I pause where there needs to be unflinching, unthinking, immediate action. I used to have that. At least, I think I did. But wherever it went, it hasn’t come out in a long, long time.
“Gloves up,” Kir says sternly. “And then hit me.”
