Page 124 of The Curse of Golden Blood
I saw the challenge and embraced it.
Miralyte turned out to be a surprisingly quick study. Her hunter's instincts, honed through years of tracking and survival, had become truly deadly now that they were paired with a fae's supernatural grace. What had once required effort and concentration now flowed through her with fluid precision.
Sunlight flared from her skin, twisting into blades of fire as she moved. Her eyes glowed with power that flowed through her limbs, connecting with impossible accuracy whenever she struck the targets I conjured.
"Good," I said, circling her slowly. "Now defend yourself."
I moved in, testing her reflexes with a slow, telegraphed strike. She blocked it easily, muscle memory from her mortal training combining with enhanced speed and strength.
"Faster," I commanded, increasing the pace.
She matched me step for step, parrying and countering with growing confidence. Her wings provided unexpected balance, letting her pivot and recover from angles that would topple a wingless opponent.
"You're holding back," she accused, breathing hard but grinning.
"Am I?"
I stepped up the intensity, forcing her to work harder. She rose to the challenge, her movements becoming more fluid, more instinctive. Heat began to radiate from her skin as her power responded to the physical exertion.
That's when she made her move.
Instead of blocking my next strike, she grabbed my wrist and used my momentum against me. Her wing swept low, catching my legs and sending me off balance. Before I could recover, she had me pinned against the floor, her knees straddling my hips and her hands pressing my wrists against the ground.
"Got you," she breathed, triumph blazing in her eyes.
For a moment, I could only stare up at her. Golden hair falling around her face like a curtain. Wings spread wide for balance. Power crackling beneath her skin like captured lightning.
She was magnificent.
"So you did," I said quietly.
Her smile widened, victory making her glow even brighter. "I can't believe Iactually—"
I rolled us over in one smooth motion, reversing our positions. She gasped as her back hit the training mat, my body covering hers, my hands pinning her wrists above her head.
"Never celebrate too early," I murmured against her ear. "It leaves you vulnerable."
She struggled briefly, testing my grip. Found it secure. "That's cheating."
"All's fair in love and war." I nipped the curve of her neck.
"Stop paraphrasing human proverbs." She went still beneath me, and I sensed the shift in her tone. The slight catch in her breath as she registered our position. The way her pulse jumped against my lips. "This is supposed to be serious training."
"This is serious training." My voice had gone rough and low. I couldn't help it. Not with her body pressed against mine, every curve molded against me as if the Mother herself had designed us for this moment. "Training you to never let your guard down."
Her exhale was little more than a shuddering breath. A sensuous trail of warmth and yearning that sent my blood racing in an alarmingly primal rhythm. But instead of melting into it, she tensed. "I'm starting to regret this arrangement."
"I will never regret holding you like this."
Heat flared beneath her skin. Not the gentle warmth I'd grown accustomed to, but something fiercer. More dangerous.
"Let me up, Zydar." Her voice carried undertones that made the air itself hum with power.
"Make me."
The challenge was issued before I could think better of it. Her golden eyes flashed, and I realized my mistake a heartbeat too late.
Sunfire erupted from her skin like liquid gold. Not burning, but overwhelming. The light was so brilliant I had to squeeze my eyes shut, my grip on her wrists loosening instinctively.
