Page 22 of Warrior's Reign
Then again. . .bring it on.
Numar nodded, stepping away. Understanding, Reign whirled towards the male, bowed, and jumped back as his leg immediately swiped a mid-level Form. She glared. He’d cheated, beginning the fight before she’d even straightened from her bow. It was a dirty trick, giving him the three extra seconds any experienced warrior would need to gain an advantage.
She was hard pressed to defend herself, her offensive Forms deteriorating as she focused on simply not getting beat out of the circle.
He moved like an arctic wind. After a few moments, Reign caught the rhythm of his fighting, clearing the tiniest space in her head to strategize.
Realizing he was humoring her did nothing for her mood. He snapped the meat of his palm at her face, the blow glancing off her cheek. It was an insult, a rebuke for her wandering attention.
Her teeth clicked together, temper snapping. She rushed him, going for his jugular in a flurry of moves—
—and ended flat on her back for the trouble.
Silent bastard.
The wind knocked out of her lungs, it took a moment to catch her breath. He padded forward, holding out a hand in an imperious, voiceless gesture. She took it and as he pulled her to her feet, used one of the nasty little street moves she’d learned from Khalid, and exacted her revenge.
Or that had been the plan. He countered it easily, and if his silence had been chill before, now it iced with disapproval. She spit out the blood as Numar approached, shaking his head.
“You will always fail unless you learn to control your temper.”
“That was sloppy,” Vykhan said.
Reign snapped her mind back to the present and circled him, wondering if anyone else heard the faint edge of annoyance in his tone. In the last two weeks he’d been a fiend, increased her mandatory training and supervised most of it himself.
Between that and being assigned constant shifts at Ibukay’s side—and that female didnotknow the meaning of sit still and relax—Reign’s energy was starting to fray. She’d resorted to desperate measures, like booking theBdakhunfor surprise spa days—guaranteed to give the guards a few hours of quiet. It made her feel old, especially when Ibu made Reign join and Reign wound up falling asleep then waking to copious amounts of gunk on her person. The second time that happened, she’d been caught—but Tai’ri had simply ordered Reign to her quarters to rest.
“The new ones always fall asleep the first few weeks,” he’d said with some sympathy. “You aren’t the first who’s tried the spa trick. The trick is to never sit down, and when off duty—sleep.”
Reign grit her teeth and fixed her feet. Complaining was for the weak. Attacking, Vykhan countered a set of Forms she’d developed on her own. Leaping back a bare breath before he would have had her on the ground, her attempt to match his Silence evaporated.
“How do you do that?” she asked, frustrated. “Have you been recording my conditioning sessions?”
He stiffened, eyes flashing at the insult. But what else was she supposed to think? Her sequences were her own, developed during her academy days, and she hadn’t shown them to anyone. How did he keep countering them?
“It’s mathematical probability,” he said coldly. “And experience. Which you may gain, if your sloppiness doesn’tget you killed.”
“You always say such sweet things to me.”
He whipped his staff, making the air sing. “Defend yourself.”
She leaped away as he attacked.
Reign abandoned all thought and met his blows, jaw set. She was good, but he was better. If she could take him down, she could take anyone down. But she was tired, and that edge to him seemed off. Almost as if this was personal. But she’d been on decent, if not quite good, behavior. What had she done to piss him off?
“That’s enough,” a raspy female voice snapped. A pause when neither of them responded, then a roar, “Halt!”
Vykhan disengaged, turning. A tall, broad-shouldered female stood at the end of the circle, glaring from kohl lined eyes. Her clean-shaven scalp gleamed like lapis lazuli under the open dome.
“I’ll take over from here,” she said, striding forward.
Vykhan stared coldly. “Banujani. You forget yourself.”
“I’m not the one growling.” Silence slammed down. Banujani jammed a finger towards him. “Something’s bothering you. Go meditate, sort your shit out. You aren’t training her, you’re punishing her.”
“I don’t need your protection,” Reign said.
“It’s not about protecting,” Banujani said. “We’re a family. Family doesn’t abuse each other. And anyone can see you’re already exhausted. The Happy Twins have been running you ragged.”
