Page 25 of A Sword of Ice
“Ryker…”
“Youwerea coward.” She tried to look away, but his grip tightened. “Eyes on me,” he grumbled. “Youwere. I will not lie to you just because we’re mated now. That doesn’t mean what I thought then has changed. But it doesn’t matter what you were, or what you did. All that matters isnow.And now? Now you are brave.”
Tears prickled behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
He was right, and it was going to take time to get past those thoughts of herself. She shouldn’t compare herself to someone she hadn’t even met yet.
It didn’t matter what the other Fae was like. No two people were ever the same, and she needed to remember that, because no one else would remember itforher. No one else would be there to remind her.
Shula had to remind herself.
She was unique.
She was brave.
And she was ready to find the Fae.
14
The March to Porir
Shula’s body slammed on the ground, and the air left her lungs in a single, wheezing breath. She rolled without catching it, using her shield arm to push herself to her feet. Her lungs were screaming at her and her legs were crying in pain, but she got up each time.
Her fingers cramped as she grasped the hilt of the sword, resuming her protective stance as her mouth opened to take in short, choppy breaths.
Julius prowled in front of her, a wicked smile on his face. His long orange hair, which he usually kept tied in a knot on his head, was loose and whipping against the wind, reminding her of the untamable licks of fire. A brown fur cloak was thrown over his shoulders, the hem trailing against his calves with each menacing step he took.
Ryker was big.
But Julius was bigger.
Made of pure muscle that bulged against the confining press of his green and brown clothes, his every blow hurt. Every time his sword clashed against hers or he put the full weight of his body to clash against Shula, she felt the reverberations shake through her skull.
It made her that much more determined to take him down.
“Your arms are still weak. Harden your stance, Fire Dancer,” he instructed from across the space that separated them.
“I’m trying,” she gritted out.
His smirk withered to a frown. “Tryharder.” And then he was charging towards her like a beastly animal, making the cold ground shake beneath her feet. She waited until he was close before she jumped to the side, her arm groaning as she swung her sword.
But Julius was a trained warrior. His blade met hers in a kiss of sparks that rained between them. He was stronger, and the clashing blow had her skidding back. She tried to find purchase in her feet to avoid falling again.
Julius smirked and she almost didn’t see his shield coming towards her. She groaned as it pushed against her own. She swore the brute force made her bones snap. She screamed her pain, tears stinging her eyes, but she didn’t give in.
She had more to prove than he did.
When they’d found her, she’d been little more than a scared Fae, too weak to use her own magic. He’d started to train her, honing her into a warrior she never knew she wanted to be.
Fighting was just like dancing in a way, except she couldn’t follow the beating of the music precisely. She followed the sounds of his footsteps, the movements of his arms and her lithe feet jumped away as he advanced.
“Stop running and fight me,” Julius growled, his eyes flashing.
She’d discovered early on that his Mana gifted magic was his superior strength, and the price of that magic was his rage.
She knew she could use that against him.
Shula smiled over her shield at him and said, “Make me.”
