Page 43 of Daring the Drakarn Warrior Lord
"We both know I'm not going to do that, baby."
This was insane. We were fighting in a sacred chamber, surrounded by the weight of tradition and duty, and she was calling me baby like we were alone in our quarters.
I loved her so much it physically hurt.
"Terra." I tried to inject authority into my voice. Failed. "This has to end."
"Then let me pass."
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both." I stood, lifting her with me, and set her gently on her feet. "I'm the final guardian. If I let you pass without a real fight, I undermine the entire trial."
"So we keep fighting." She retrieved her blade from where it had fallen. "Until one of us yields or I find a way past you."
"There is no way past me."
"There's always a way." She settled back into a ready stance. "I just have to find it."
The determination in her voice made something twist in my chest. She actually believed she could win this. Believed that human stubbornness and tactical thinking could overcome the fundamental reality of our physical differences.
It would have been endearing if it wasn't so dangerous.
I spread my wings fully, blocking any path to the blood-flame. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Then this should be easy." She scooped up her blade from where it had fallen and attacked again.
This time, I didn't hold back quite as much. Met her strikes with real force, used my tail to sweep her legs, my wings to create wind that threw off her balance. I was still careful, still pulling the truly dangerous moves, but I stopped treating her like she'd shatter at the first real contact.
She adapted immediately. Used my size against me, staying close where my wings were less effective. Targeted joints and gaps in my scales with precision that spoke of serious study. Made me work for every defensive position.
The fight intensified. Faster. Harder. Both of us pushing in ways we never had during practice.
And despite everything, despite the duty and the tradition and the impossible situation we'd found ourselves in, I was enjoying this.
Actually enjoying combat for the first time in years.
Not because of the violence or the test of skill. Because of her. Because fighting Terra meant being fully present, fully engaged, matching wits and strength with someone who refused to make it easy.
She made me better. Sharper. More alive.
Even when she was actively trying to get past me to steal a sacred gem.
I caught her in a grapple, arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground. She immediately went for a pressure point at my neck, fingers finding the spot with unerring accuracy. Pain radiated down my spine, sharp enough to make my grip loosen.
She dropped, rolled, came up running.
I was faster. Caught her around the waist again, this time prepared for her counterattack. Held her suspended in the air, her legs kicking uselessly.
"Yield!" I demanded.
"No!"
"Terra, this is ridiculous. You can't win."
"Watch me!"
