Page 17 of The Curse of Golden Blood
The moment she did, I froze.
She was able to touch the necklace.
Agralt had been forged from the blood and lightning of a god, designed to bind only me. Anyone who touched it aside from me would be shocked by a surge of my own power.
I stared down at her in shock. She looked up at me, shivering in the cold like a drowned sprite, but a resolute challenge written on her face. Miralyte. She blinked away rain drops, and I watched as a thick, water droplet slid along her cheek and dropped.
Impossible, I thought. I reached out, touching her face, running the pad of my thumb along the soft skin of her cheek.
"What in the Mother’s name are you doing?" she demanded, swatting my hand away. "Don't. Touch. Me."
She stepped away from my grasp, repulsed. "You think you can touch me any time you like? Is that what you do with the other Vessels?"
I sighed.Foolish, stubborn girl.
She grabbed a long sword from the obsidian platform and faced me, holding the blade in both hands.
"Now I'll land that blow."
I was still processing what had happened.How could she have touched the necklace?
She swung the sword.
"Mind the lesson, Thunder Lord."
I sidestepped smoothly as her blade sliced through the air where my arm had been a heartbeat before.
"I will not be treated like an animal. Or a toy. Is that clear? I'm not here for your enjoyment."
I smirked at her. "Then what are you here for, little dove?"
She stepped close, her lips lifting in a sneer. "Revenge. That's the only reason I'm here."
She swung the sword again.
I dodged, but she followed me with a relentless series of blows, driving me back to the edge of the platform.
Her attacks were quick and accurate, her footwork precise. She had a natural talent.
It was almost a pity that I was far superior in combat. I sidestepped a low swing, letting her momentum carry her forward.
She stumbled.
I took advantage of the moment, kicking her feet out from under her and sending her sprawling onto the wet stone.
"That was pitiful."
I stood above her, and I saw the exact moment her temper flared. She sprang up, swinging the sword wildly.
I didn't bother to dodge this time. I calmly reached up, caught the pommel of the sword, and pulled it away from her.
"Is that the best you can do, Miralyte?"
There was nothing on her face now, no hint of what she was feeling. But beneath the thin, clinging fabric of her shirt, I could see that her chest was rising and falling quickly. With restraint, not from exertion.
No, she was not afraid.
Just angry.
