A hot blush burned my skin. Wilder didn’t look that much older than me, yet given his skill, it wasn’t difficult to believe he was old. I must seem like an infant to him. A child, indeed. I felt like a fool for failing to control my body whenever he was near.
“Serena,” he barked, “are you listening to me? If you’re willing to give up, then Kasi isn’t the place for you.”
His arms shifted into a cage, a prison, sucking away my will. I waited for a burst of defiance but it never came. I searched, groped, for a flicker—a desire to fight and be free—but there was just a pit filled with shadow and ash.
Suddenly, the necklace was burning and burning. Searing at my flesh. A heartbeat away from screaming and tearing it from my throat, the stranger’s voice that was somehow part of me and separate arrived.
You don’t get to quit. Fight him tooth and nail and wing. You can’t measure suffering in years. He’s wrong. Now, prove it.
That’s when the anger came. A sweeping tide of flame, a storm of perfect clarity. He’d done nothing but criticize and refuse to acknowledge fae advantages since our training had begun. I paid no mind that he was probably ancient, or my teacher, or that to him I’d always be a stupid little girl. She—the voice—was right. He’d presumed I hadn’t suffered, because I was young.
My temper reached boiling. I wanted to hurt him.
Stop raging. Start thinking, she hissed inside my head.
How? He’s fae.
Learn to play by their rules. Go for their weak spot.
The heat at my throat rose to unbearable levels. Strength surged, coating my bones and suffusing my veins. Angling my head, I bit down on his wrist. I didn’t hold back. It wasn’t enough to draw blood but Wilder still snarled and his grip slipped an inch.
Good, I thought savagely.
I slammed my foot down again, using my left side—my weaker side to surprise him. At the same time, I tucked my chin in farther and rammed my elbow into his solar plexus, throwing my weight behind it. All three maneuvers worked. His grip slipped another inch. Twisting, ducking under his right arm, hugging into his body, I slipped out from his grasp.
I did the only thing I could to stay in control: I went for his wings. His magnificent green, leathery wings. It was a dirty trick—unforgivable, really—but the fire at my throat sang to my blood. Don’t back down. Don’t back down.
Somehow he saw the attack coming. His wings burst out, spreading wide.
One of them clipped me on the jaw; I didn’t even flinch.
I aimed for the joints, grasped ahold with both hands, and tugged back viciously. Wilder roared, thrashing madly, fighting my grip. Two seconds from being thrown wide, I swung a ruthless knee up into the small of his back.
Wilder grunted, but somehow the bastard was still standing. An image flashed into my mind’s eye. Anticipating his next action, I moved just in time. He catapulted himself backward. I swung around his body, one hand clinging to a wing, and threw myself onto his front.
Sure, it only worked because he was off balance, but he went down, giving me the split second I needed to jam my knees up into his chest and regain a stranglehold on his wings.
He let out a mewling sound. Something told me it was an act to get me to falter. “Concede.”
A growl ripped through him. It was nearly strong enough to dislodge my knees.
Do it, she said without mercy.
I didn’t stop to think. I gave his wings a savage tug.
“You have made your point,” he muttered.
“Say it,” I barked.
“Wicked thing,” he said. I could’ve sworn his voice took on a softer, more seductive timbre.
Another trick, she whispered to me.
That voice had taken ahold. I accepted her observation without question. Digging my nails—claws—into his wings, I scraped across the thin membrane. He was fae. He’d survive. All the same, he let out a small gasp.
“Say it,” I warned.
“I concede.” His voice sounded dark, ominous.
I slowly released my grip on his wings. Of course, he couldn’t just let it be. The second my stranglehold weakened, he jolted up into a seated position and pinned my arms to my sides. My legs now dislodged from his chest, I was astride him as he moved in close, so that we were nose to nose. I barely heard him above the beating of my heart as he snarled in my face. “That was very, very stupid. Attacking fae wings like that can drive us out of our minds—enough to kill first and ask questions later … And to make me submit—that’s just cruel.”
He sounded as serious as usual, but his eyes were dancing, and there was a definite sulky pout to his lips. A hysteria tinged laugh erupted out of me. He unleashed a vicious growl.
Rolling my eyes and clucking my tongue seemed like a mighty tempting response. He didn’t get it. But who would correct him? Who would be that stupid?
You would. A warm chuckle sounded.
Ah. True.
My chin lifted. “I don’t care. You’ve been exploiting your advantages this whole time. I needed to do something.”
Strong hands released my arms and clinched my waist. His eyes lowered to my hips—to that point of contact. A thrill rushed through my blood, pooling in my core. I hadn’t thought—hadn’t considered that I was on top of him, straddling him. I couldn’t help it. The wanting punched a hole through my gut.
His gaze met mine; the firelights illuminated his dilating pupils. “I know,” he said, his voice evoking images of silken sheets and entangled limbs. “That’s why I won’t kill you.”
“How generous,” I sniped.
His eyes turned cold and his canines punched out. “Since you seem determined to act the savage, I should punish you like a fae.”
My throat undulated in fear, and maybe something else. His eyes went there.
Oh, shit.
I fought to bring my forearms in front of my chest to keep him from striking. He swatted my resistance away as if it were nothing—a cobweb—and cupped the back of my neck, crushing me against his body. Not an inch of space separated us. I cried out in rage as his teeth bit down on the oh-so-sensitive flesh at the nape of my neck. It was shallow, but it still rutting hurt.
“Bastard,” I hissed.
His chuckle skittered over my bones.
I ought to have felt pissed. I did …
I should push him away, and I was—feebly.
But there were other emotions, other things, to consider. The warmth of his body soaking into my skin, the fire licking my insides, the gentle stroke of his tongue, as if to ease the sting.
The pressure at my neck suddenly soothed and became something else entirely—a feather, a moth-like pressure. “There’s a thunderstorm in your blood,” he mouthed. Breathless, maybe even in awe.
The words whispered against my skin. An unleashing. I relaxed, molded into his body, and rested my head against his. I yearned for his touch—for more. His body tensed and hardened beneath me.
The grip on my neck and back vanished. I waited for him to push me away, but instead, he ran a gentle sweep of his fingertips up my spine. I could’ve drowned in relief; died from it.
I was flying high. I made a bold decision and moved my arms up his back, intending to reciprocate.
That triggered something; he bucked and threw me from him. I landed a few feet away, winded, but not injured. I propped myself up and saw him scrambling, standing, clutching his stomach. The firelights showed him double over and heave his guts up.
I stood, motionless. Should I go to him? Try to explain? Apologize?
Once he’d regained control over his stomach, he stared up at me, sweat beading his forehead. “What’s happening to me?” Wilder choked out.
I took a step forward. Then another. He didn’t move. “I’m sorry—it’s my blood. Someone told me it’s supposed to have more salt and iron in it than normal, but …”
Lust made me forget? I chose not to add that part.
Wilder wiped his mouth with his sleeve, removing any sign of blood. Bracing his hands on his knees, he uncoiled. His back ramrod straight, he looked at me differently: suspiciously. The gap between us seemed to get a bit wider; colder.
“You’ve seen this reaction before?”
I decided on the truth. “One of the fae who captured me, he bit me. I wanted to go to the Crescent, and it was the only way to test—”