Page 87 of The Call of Crimson
I stretch my arm up and behind my head, connecting it with my opposite hand behind my back. “Why would I need privacy? I spar all the time.”
“Because we’re not just sparring,” he says easily, lunging forward to stretch his thighs. “I’m getting to know you.”
I mimic him, arching a brow. “Oh?”
“Remember when I said you’d need your energy for what I had planned the other day?” His grin is pure mischief. “This is what I actually had planned.”
I think back to two days ago when Ayden had taken me to his favorite breakfast spot in Elentia. It had started with unexpected enjoyment and ended in near tragedy. Rochelle had lived, Ayden’s healer reaching her in time to save her leg. She returned home to her family yesterday.
I snort. “Let me get this straight—you plan to court me by fighting me?”
He winks. “I want to see you in your element. I figured I could observe you where you’re most comfortable and ask questions as we go.”
“Alright, I’ll play along. But I get to ask you questions as well,” I demand, pointing a finger at him.
“Of course.”
I fall into a defensive stance, weight on my toes, waiting for him to make the first move.
He strikes fast, a punch flying toward my chest. I deflect easily, spinning out of his reach and throwing a sharp jab at his shoulder.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asks, catching my forearm before my punch can land.
I tear my arm free, dancing back. “Deep green.”
“Not just green?”
“No.” I lunge, throwing a punch that glances off his cheek. “Green like the color of pine needles.”
He sucks in a breath, wiping a thumb across his lip. It comes away red, wet with the blood of a split lip.
I bite back a smirk. “What is your favorite color?”
“Navy blue—like the midnight sky on a full moon.”
He sweeps his leg toward mine, aiming low. I barely leap clear, nearly losing my balance in the process.
Ayden seizes the opportunity, tackling me to the ground.
“What’s your favorite food?” he asks as he wrestles my arms above my head, pinning me.
“Getting real deep now,” I tease, twisting my hips. While he’s distracted trying to control my hands, I wrap my legs around his hips and roll him beneath me. “Roasted lamb.” I grin down at him. “But cheesecake is my weakness.”
I don’t waste time trying to pin him. It’s pointless. Instead, I wrap a hand lightly around his throat, squeezing just enough to make him uncomfortable. “Are you more of an ass or tits kind of male?”
He laughs, even under the pressure of my hand. “I’m an equal opportunist.”
His strength is infuriating—and wildly attractive. He grabs my hips, rolling me again.
Breathing heavily, he straddles me again. “What’s your fondest memory?”
A dozen memories come to mind. Dancing in the rain with Elijah, training with Jade and Julian for the first time, my parents’ faces when they made me general. But one memory settles over me like a warm blanket.
“Learning to dance.” I smile fondly. “My parents hired an instructor, but I was awful at first. I wanted to quit. Until I snuck out of bed one night and caught them dancing by candlelight. There was no music, no audience. Just pure, unadulterated love between them. The way they twirled and laughed in that silent room…”
Ayden’s expression softens, real affection gleaming in his amber eyes. “That sounds…”
“Magical,” I finish for him. I smile, small and aching. “It absolutely was. I didn’t just want to dance like that. I wanted to love like that.”
