Page 101 of A Kiss From Death
It feels good to hold my own against him. It feels good to take back power over my life. It feels good tofeelagain.
Sometimes, we talk while we spar, giving each other tips or praises, and other times, we talk with only our bodies. No words, just silence and our pain being forced from our beings with each jab or punch we make.
Healing the hurt, that’s what we do.
Hade knocks his shoulder into mine. “You did good today.”
“That’s not what I would call it, but I’ll take the compliment all the same. I’m a greedy bitch, it seems.”
“You should be proud of yourself,” he responds earnestly. “You held your own, even had me pinned a few times. I wasn’t making it easy on you. I’ve been training my entire life, and I’m easily double your size.” He says the last part with a smirk, and I slam my shoulder into his, knocking him off balance. I laugh and go to help him up, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me down onto him, our chests crashing together in the sand.
Time slows for a second as I study the man under me who only weeks ago was a stranger. An enemy. Now, he’s carved his name into my heart with a branding iron, burning me thoroughly in the process. But nothing worth having in life is ever painless.
I like the pain he’s brought. It compliments my own.
Catching his glimmering eyes, I smirk down at him and playfully flick the tip of his nose. He laughs, a deep, toe curling sound that has my insides purring. He lashes out, grasping the side of my neck, slightly pressing into the side of my throat. His thumbindents right above my pulse point, where a steady beat calls back to him.
Smiling to himself, he whispers under his breath, “Alive.”
“Alive,” I breathe back, throwing him a wink in return.
As he licks his lips, his eyes slightly darken. The light one turns an ashy gray, the black one almost disappearing completely. His hand travels from my neck over to my lips, dragging his thumb across them, making the lower one pop out.
Licking my lips, I lean down, slowly hovering my mouth directly above his, sharing breath. His hand travels to the back of my neck, slightly tightening. I throw him a wicked look, leaning in the rest of the way until our lips are barely pressed together. His smile falters when he feels the pressure of something cold and sharp against his throat.
Pressing my dagger lightly against his skin, I shoot him another wink. “What was it you told me before? Never underestimate an opponent?”
He grumbles to himself, but he can’t hold back the smile that replaces his grouchy tendencies. “The fight was over,” he mumbles, lifting his hand to envelope mine wrapped around the dagger pressed to him.
I innocently bat my eyelashes at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I seem to recall you were the one yelling ‘mercy’ and begging for it to be over.”
Raising an eyebrow at him, I pretend to ponder his words. “Hmmm, nope. I don’t recall saying that.”
“Then you said I was the strongest male in Lunaria, and you could never compete against my giant muscles and striking features that steal your breath away every time you look at me.”
I gasp dramatically, followed by a small giggle. “I most definitelyneversaid that.”
Quicker than I expected, he rips the dagger from my hand, launching it across the sand before flipping us over so he’s straddling me. Gripping my face in both his hands, he forcefully crashes his lips to mine in a pleasant surprise.
Pulling away just as fast, he smiles down at me, and my heart warms with the taste of him lingering on my lips, adding to my addiction. I can’t help the blush that creeps up my throat. This man never ceases to make my body react to him.
“I’m taking you out tonight,” he states abruptly.
I look up at him, confused, but he shoots me a look that saysdon’t ask questions, just go with it. I nod, which satisfies him as he drags me up to stand.
“I have some business to tend to first, so I’ll come grab you after dinner. Winston will escort you in my absence.”
“Des,I think I might be having a panic attack,” I huff while throwing yet another pair of pants in a pile on my bed. It’s slowly growing over her body as she reads Theo’s journal. “Are you even listening to me?” I whine.
Snapping the journal shut, she gives me the stink eye. “You seem to be breathing just fine, sparkles, and you’re digging into my hopeless romantic reading time.”
Closing my eyes, I grip my throat, pretending to choke, and she huffs loudly in response. “I’m.”Cough.“Not.”Cough.“Fine.” Peeling one eye open, I spot an unimpressed Des glaring at me. “I need your help,” I plead. “That’s what friends do. They help each other when they are in need instead of snooping in private journals.”
Rolling her eyes, she pins be with a glare. “I did help you. Five times, to be exact, and you shot down every outfit I picked for you. You’reimpossibleto please.”
Wincing, I try to come up with a reasonable response. “They—they just didn’t feel…right,” I drag out while nervously nibbling my nails.
