Page 32 of Nemesync
And those amber eyes of hers...
I couldn’t shake them from my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried. She haunted me. It was too late now; I could no longer tear my eyes away from that girl.
After an hour, they arrived, and the training began.
Her eyes were still the same, and looking at them up close reminded me of how much I wanted to push her to her limits and make her know what real pain was.
Damn, I wasobsessed.
Blades clashed, the sound echoing in the room. Her long ponytail begged to be grabbed, to feel it twist around my hand as I brought my knife to her throat.
Her sweaty, pale skin glistened under the soft dim light, veins pulsing visibly.
The contrast of her sweat-drenched skin against her dark hair teased something within me, fascination and frustration.
She was both strong and vulnerable, a combination that made my blood boil.
“Pathetic,” I spat, my voice dripping with disdain. “Fight like you mean it.”
She met my gaze with defiance and confidence, then smiled, “I mean every attempt to slash your throat, Elijah.”
I bet she is.
“Do better then. You can’t even touch me with your blade.”
Her lips curved into a smirk, “Oh, please, try harder if you want to hurt my feelings.”
I was so fucking lost in her dangerously attractive stupid face that she swiftly disarmed me, her blade pressing against my throat once more. She was suffocating, her dilated pupils staring into mine, her amber eyes poisonous. Our faces were inches apart, and she never stopped smiling.
Fuck me.
“See? Got you again,” she whispered.
I met her gaze with a smile, pressing my other hidden blade against her pulse, relishing in the sound of her heart beating. “Are you sure,Milaya?”
She stepped back, the smirk fading from her lips.
So pouty and full. What if I just devour them?
I really need to stop thinking about that before destroying that mouth, here and now.
Moving on to the makeshift shooting range, the scent of gunpowder enveloped the room. I guided her in handling the firearm, watching as her delicate fingers grasped the gun with ease. Those red nails are killing me.
“Now, grip it firmly, but not too tight. You need control, not just force it.”
“I thought control was your thing, Elijah.”
A chuckle escaped me. “Pull the trigger, Zanae.”
She smiled while firing, and a surprising sense of satisfaction filled me. I knew she was strong. “Not bad. Maybe there’s still hope for you.”
Zanae’s satisfied beautiful grin widened, “I think it would be better if you were the target.”
So much fire in her.
I just shook my head, loving this side of her way too much. The one that made me want to murder her. “You might almost be tolerable if you weren’t so insufferable.”
Her eyes met mine again, this time, defying me. “Likewise, Volkov. Almost.”
