Page 49 of Hellish Fae
“Get on your feet,” a growling voice commands, breaking through my waning mantras and distracting me momentarily from Catherine’s pressure clawing at my chest.
A boot nudges my ribs and I collapse on my side with barely any force from the man standing above me.
It’s Ryke. His watchful green eyes assess me, but he keeps his stern look heavy in his features.
“Fuck off. Shit! She’s fighting that thing inside her.” Zaviar pushes Ryke’s scarred shoulder, but the man’s so large he barely moves from the shove of Zav’s hand.
“Get up, Crow,” Ryke whispers in his gravelly tone that feels more intimate than intimidating. “You really want me to kick your ass lying down? I will. I won’t like it, but I will.”
My head pounds with so much slashing pain, it might split right open, and Catherine will finally be free.
And so will I.
“You gonna let that cunt inside you win, or you gonna to get up and own my ass?” Ryke grabs two wooden swords from a rack and throws one on the ground. It slides fast over the mat and hits my arm hard enough to bruise.
“Ryke. Fuck. Off. Now’s not the time,” Zaviar growls with violence licking his tone. He steps closer to his friend, and even from here, I can see how tightly wired his jaw is as he glares at the demon. Ryke’s frame is larger and stronger but the determined darkness in Zaviar is a terrifying thing.
Before Zaviar can lash out at his friend, Ryke lunges for me. Every muscle in his big arms flexes. The sword in his hand arcs up over his head with slashing intent. His aim is perfect. Whoever taught him would be proud of the blow he’s about to land on my skull. Crushing demonic strength. Perfect angle.
It’s a killing blow.
Even with a wooden sword.
My fingers grab the wooden hilt of the weapon at my side in the blink of an eye. The grain of it digs into my flesh under my hard grip. I fling it above my head with both hands.
His sword slams down on mine, and the mock blade of my weapon splits beneath his weight. It shatters, spitting splinters above me that rain down across my cheeks.
My broken sword holds him off with a thin, jagged end. My weapon’s half the size it used to be, but it holds up against him.
For the moment.
I’m kneeling at his feet, heaving out a breath as he smiles down on me.
“That’s my girl. Show me that fight, baby.” Ryke’s boot meets my bare chest just above my bra. With a small push, he flings me away from him, putting space between us so I have time to recompose myself.
He circles me with lazy confidence and stalking strides.
“That shadow group you were in taught you some good defenses, Crow,” he says with a taunting half smirk as I hobble to my feet.
Shadow group . . .
I’m going to kill Krave. He can’t keep a fucking secret to save his sparkling wings.
But that’s exactly what Ryke is doing right now. He’s trying to get my guard down by shit-talking about things he knows he shouldn’t know about.
He’s conniving.
I like it.
“Thank you,” I say sweetly like he isn’t affecting me at all. As if I’m not imagining how many different ways I could remove Krave’s cock from his body.
I hold my broken blade casually in my lowered hand, watching him watch me with that glinting look in his emerald eyes.
“Who taught you your pretty moves, Ryke?”
His smile fades away, but he never stops circling me. And I let him. My body eats up the energy thrumming inside me that’s commanding me to lash out at him. I harbor that energy. I let it build.
“Before I was a morph demon, I was a Valkyrie. I was taught by the strongest warriors earth has never known.”
