Page 39 of Bride of Mist
When she made an unexpected return slash, the finely honed point of thebishougrazed his neck.
He sucked a quick breath through his teeth as a thin red line bloomed across his flesh.
Her heart pounded. An inch deeper, and he might have been slain.
He lifted his fingers to his throat, then withdrew them, frowning when he saw blood.
He clenched his jaw. His eyes grew as dark and heavy and threatening as a thundercloud. She would find no chink in his armor now.
But to her frustration, he still refused to attack.
Tension made her impatient. She tried to rattle him, clanging her forkedsaisagainst his blade.
But he shook off her advances like a duck shaking off rain.
Desperation made her careless. She made another impulsive stab forward with herbishou.If she could impale his heart, this standoff would come to a swift end.
But he anticipated the charge. While he diverted thebishouwith his sword, his left hand snagged her wrist.
She gasped as he applied sudden, hard, painful pressure with his thumb, forcing her to drop the weapon.
She wrenched her empty hand out of his grip and took a backward step to regroup. Reaching inside her gambeson, she withdrew the secondsaisand then swept the pair down together in an X that whistled through the air with menace. They were defensive weapons with blunt prongs, but with enough force behind them, they could still kill.
He blew out a forceful breath. Pinned her with a glare of smoldering resolve. And transformed into the monster she’d seen at the tournament. Capable of violence and cruelty. Savage. Brutal. Unyielding.
In his gaze, for the first time, she saw the possibility of her own death.
Dread made her shaky. But she couldn’t afford fear. Too many souls depended upon her. So with an aggressive cry, she lunged forward with bothsais.
He knocked one of them aside with the flat of his sword and spun away, but not before she caught the end of his blade between the tines of the second.
Trying not to think about the damage to her preciousshoudao—the weapon she’d proudly earned at the age of twelve—Feiyan used brute strength to hold the blade aloft and trapped. The weapons made an awful grating noise as she slid thesaishalfway up the length of the sword.
She intended to snap the blade.
What she didn’t foresee was that he would surrender it.
As he released the sword, her own strength worked against her. Momentum sent her staggering forward.
As she stumbled, he stepped in and wrenched the secondsaisfrom her grasp, flinging it aside.
When the handle of the entangledduandaoabruptly struck the ground, angling the sharp tip toward her, she was still clinging to the firstsais. And she was still falling.
For Dougal, there was no time for tact.
He instinctively tackled the lass, moving her out of the path of the sword’s point.
They tumbled together in the dirt and leaves. The sword fell harmlessly onto the forest floor, its blade still caught up in the forks of the trident. She wound up in his arms, on top of him, stunned and breathless.
He expected she’d be grateful. Aye, he’d been rough with her. But he’d saved her life.
He never imagined she’d resume her attack.
But as soon as she blinked away her shock, her gaze hardened again. She shoved herself up from his chest. Wrapped her hands around his neck. And pressed her thumbs with killing force into his throat.
Gagging, he grabbed her wrists and quickly pried them apart, forcing her to collapse down on him again.
Her face was inches from his. Behind the mask, she spat at him in rage and frustration. But he was close enough to see the truth in her eyes. Mixed in with her bloodlust was very real fear.
