Page 90 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good. I’m rather looking forward to seeing what you’ve got,” he said with a bemused grin as he adjusted his grip on the pommel of his sword.

“You may not feel that way when you’re bleeding out at my feet,” she warned him, reaching for two fresh daggers as they began to circle one another.

“I’ve always wanted to draw my last breath beneath a beautiful woman.”

“Then today must be your lucky day.”

His chuckle washed over her the way a spring breeze rustles through blades of grass. Still holding her gaze, he smirked. “To be fair, in my fantasy, we were engaged in a very different kind of swordplay.”

Her heart kicked up at the admission. “Well, then. I guess you’ll die as you lived—in disappointment.”

Drawing on her considerable speed,Shadow darted forward, moving in close and landing two quick slices along his arms before dancing away behind him.

Ronan laughed as the crowd roared in approval. Up close and personal was an assassin’s bread and butter. It’s where their skills truly shined. A sword might be fancy, but it wasn’t much use when it couldn’t strike its target. A dagger, on the other hand, could cause considerable damage in any number of ways.

Realizing her intention, Ronan tossed his sword on the ground and ducked low, grabbing a fistful of dirt and tossing it in her face. She anticipated the move and twisted away, but he must have used more of that damned magic of his, because the dirt chased her, flying up into her eyes anyway.

“Cheater.”

“Am I? Or am I just clever?” He used her momentary blindness to disarm her and steal both her blades.

Shadow reached behind her and pulled two new ones free from the sheathes hidden beneath her shirt. “You’re going to have to do a fair bit more than that if you want to beat me.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he growled before tipping forward and tackling her.

Agility was no match for sheer bulk. She toppled ass over tea kettle, the breath knocked out of her as she landed flat on her back. If not for the years of muscle memory instinctively guiding her, she would have quickly found herself trapped beneath him. Instead, she rolled to the side and kicked out, knocking Ronan onto his side, and scrambled to restrain him. Expecting the move, he wrapped her in a bear hug and flipped her over his head until they were both lying in the dirt, trying to catch their breath.

It went on like that for several rounds. Each time one of them seemed to gain the advantage, the other easily countered it. It was a constant back and forth with no real leader. They weren’t just evenly matched; they were perfect foils. Their methods both complementary and made to neutralize each other.

Ronan’s style was composed of straight aggression, his attacks brutal and heavily reliant on his strength. Hers, in contrast, were stealthy displays of speed and dirty street tricks. It wasn’t long before they were both dripping sweat and blood, bruises already blooming on her cheek where his skull cracked against the bone. She was pretty sure it was an unintentional hit because his eyes immediately flickered with apology. She used the slight lowering of his guard to slam the heel of her hand into his nose and then solar plexus. Ronan dropped with a pained grunt.

Shadow was back on top of him in a second, freeing a blade tucked into a hidden sheath at her thigh and bringing it up to his throat. Instead of slitting it and ending both his life and the trial, she hesitated.

Ronan knew it too, because he taunted her. “I can’t help but feel like you’re toying with me, kitten. Is your heart even in this?”

She wiped a forearm over her brow, baring her teeth in something far too unkind to be a smile. “Is yours? You’ve stopped even pretending to go on the offensive.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to tire.”

“Maybe. Or... you’re letting me win.”

Ronan did something with his hips that sent her tumbling over. “Is that what you think? Are you sure it’s not the other way around? You’re Empyria’s greatest assassin. How is it you can’t manage to take out a lone man?”

Shadow bared her teeth, adjusting her grip on her weapon and reaching around to cut Ronan behind the knee. “What makes you think I don’t have you exactly where I want you?”

Pain flared to life behind his eyes, and she shoved him off, retaking her position on top. Chest heaving, sweat dripping in her eyes, Shadow once again placed her dagger at his throat.

This time there were no teasing words. No cocky smiles. Ronan stared up at her, his eyes raking over her face as if he was attempting to memorize it.

She spoke without conscious thought, the words pouring from her before she even realized it. “I never wanted this.”

“I know.”

“It’s the only way.”

“I know.”

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