Page 53 of Warrior's Reign
“I’m warmed up,” Reign said finally. “Do you need a few minutes? MyAdekhyunalways stretched before a bout.” There. He’d called her a child, she’d called him old and slow.
So they were even and could get down to business.
“I’m prepared.”
They moved deeper into the circle, then halted. Reign inclined her head, then dropped into a waiting Form.
He attacked before her stance was settled.
Right away she knew he wasn’t as good as Vykhan or Numar, but he was no slouch and she knew better than to overestimate her own skills.
A strike whistled just over her head as she ducked. So. . .this wasn’t a friendly training spar.
By the third time she’d narrowly evaded what would have been an incapacitating blow, Reign accepted that she could either call a halt to the match and humiliate both herself and herBdakhun—if Yilsa would even halt—or she could run him into the ground and accept the disciplinary action afterwards.
Option two was more palatable. Especially since herBdakhunwas her best friend, and her commanding officer was evidently her. . .boyfriend?
Knowing Vykhan, he’d just punish her with more training.
Reign released the tight hold she kept on her temper, allowing anger to rise and clear a space in her head for thought. Then she moved.
Yilsa’s gaze snapped up to hers, the only reaction to her increased speed. There—he favored a six sequence for attack, but his Form Twelve was from the Path of Light methodology. Eredan had spent a year training her in Path of Light’s methodologies. They were the second major school besides Yna Ipaluk.
Which meant on the seventh sequence he would—
She intercepted the strike, ripping from Yilsa the advantage of surprise. He hadn’t expected her to anticipate his moves. Idiot. She’d told him she was a Yna Ipaluk graduate, but she knew his type.
And recognized the hint of anger in his eyes.
Because Reignwasyounger, one of her mistakes was always to go too hard too soon. She needed to learn to pace herself better.
A lesson Yilsa had learned from years of experience. He pressed forward, stepping a little faster until Reign’s breath came harsher. Sweat dripped into her eyes and her fingers cramped around the staff. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but the burn in her muscles told her it had been a while.
“You’re tired,” he said in a kind voice. “There is no shame in forfeiting the bout, girl. You’re only human.” He clucked his tongue at her gently, shaking his head.
It was harder to control her mouth when she was tired. “I can’t help being a girl. You, however, can help being an asshole. But maybe not—Path of Light, huh? Yna Ipaluk wouldn’t take you then.”
He was just mad he hadn’t been able to drop her yet. She wasn’t, unfortunately, going to be able to pound him into the ground any more than she could Vykhan, but she was making it very difficult for Yilsa to teach her the lesson he wanted, from the tightness in his shoulders.
Darkness passed over his expression. “They took you,girl,on the strength of your adopted father’s name. And perhaps the strength of something else.” His gaze raked her again, insolence in his regard. “Numar always was a human pussy lover. I’m sure you learned many things during your training. Or were you the teacher?”
Her temper snapped into something darker, something thirsty. She’d felt this way duringjokdaht,this savage distance from all emotions while she hunted and killed the rival family responsible for her client’s murder.
Nothing else mattered but his blood in the sand.
While he’d been yapping, she’d been counting his sequence. On seven, she slipped under his guard, bringing her staff down in a punishing arc. He slipped away at the last second, whirled and reversed the attack with a Yna Ipaluk master sequence.
Reign cursed. She saw it coming, and could do nothing to extricate herself. To counter this, you had to take the proverbial dagger to the gut. It wasAdekhanlevel and forbidden for those who hadn’t completed at least four training cycles.
She would take the blow, and then take Yilsa, even if it cost her career.
“Halt,” a strong voice snapped.
It distracted her for a split second. Yilsa’s blow landed, cracking into her cheekbone with punishing force. She turned her head with the strike, avoiding a broken nose, tasting blood in her mouth. Reign staggered, keeping upright and her staff in her hands through grim will even though her vision darkened.
“I saidhalt!”The snap became a roar.
“My apologies,” Yilsa’s silky voice said. “I forget how fragile the humans are. She should not be among us if she is so easily broken.”
