Page 53 of A Sword of Ice
Warmth spread across her chest as gentle as any magic. “I would like that.”
“Good.” He clapped his hands together then. “If you don’t want to be distracted with pleasures of the flesh, how about with something else?”
Her brows lifted. “Oh?”
His smile became a touch malicious. “Training.”
That she could do. Training reminded her of the past, where good memories and bad collided to form a part of her. Training had always been an escape for her. A way to hone her skills; it gave her purpose and strength to do what she knew she needed to do.
It had been so long since she’d had someone to spar with.
Julius was strong; he’d be the perfect partner.
“Let’s do this.” She smiled, but inside, laughter threatened to bubble out.
I will fucking destroy you.
28
A Sword of Ice
Julius stood across from her on deck. He’d shucked his fur cloak and stood in nothing but a simple brown tunic—rolled up at the sleeves—pants, and boots. Iona tried not to be distracted by his arms and the thick dusting of hair across his skin, but it was difficult not to be. Then she caught his knowing smirk and she steeled herself against what she now knew was a purposeful ploy to best her.
If he wanted to play dirty, then she could too.
Her fingers worked at the ties of her cloak as she slowly and lasciviously began pulling it off and tossing it to the side. Next went her leather vest until she was in nothing but her own gray tunic and pants. Her breasts felt heavy beneath the confining fabric, and she knew it was nearly see-through, that he could just make out the sharp jut of her nipples beneath the cloth.
When she looked up, his pupils were blown wide and his nostrils were flaring as he took her in. She smirked and pretended to ignore him as she swept her own gaze around the deck.
They’d garnered an audience, their companions surrounding them and watching with amused expressions. Clay appeared next to her, carrying a sword like an offering. She stared at the blade as he held it out to her and shook her head.
“I won’t be needing it.”
Clay’s blond brows rose, but he remained silent as he stepped back.
She turned back to Julius to find him smirking arrogantly at her. In his hand, he held his own glinting sword, wielding a shield in the other.
“Pretty confident in yourself, mate?” he taunted.
He was a lumbering predator, all bulk and long, prowling limbs that swallowed up a path back and forth, while his eyes sized her up. She knew he was gauging her for weaknesses. Because she was doing the same with him, but much more discreetly.
“Perhaps,” she answered coyly.
“Your magic won’t be enough on its own here, you know.” He held out his sword, as if to emphasize his point. “You’ll need so much more than that if you want to best me.”
Power flared inside her body, responding to his taunts, brightening her veins an electric blue, filling her eyes with the lustrous hint of ice. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”
“Well then…” Julius charged.
Iona stayed still as he ran towards her. What he had in eagerness, she had in patience, and she waited until he was close, his sword arched over his head. She darted forward and magic burst from her fingertips on her right hand. It spread, lengthening, taking form, and when his sword came crashing towards her, she met him blade for blade.
His eyes widened with surprise, and she smirked at him over her sword of ice, molded to fit into her palm perfectly. Julius growled and pushed back against her.
Shock reverberated through her system at the jolt of the contact and she weaved and dodged as his sword followed. Steel and ice clashed, causing sparks and biting snow to rain down around them. Wherever his sword chipped, she sent her magic forward, hardening the ice of her newly made blade until it was practically impenetrable.
They parried back and forth, dancing around each other, every blow a striking force that she felt clatter her teeth together. It became evident, by the way she was panting and he wasn’t, that he was going easy on her.
Rage flared up.
