“Those fucking Legionnaires at the Glass Tower did a number on him,” he continued. “They should’ve killed him when they had the chance. According to Nikolai, he’s full of fire and fury, ready for combat.”
Aleksei chuckled. Mikhail watched the boys as they stepped up to Dmitri, who was leading the morning training. One of the Black Lily’s human soldiers patted Caden on the back as he handed over a bow. The soldier then ambled toward the sparring pin where Gregoravich, Gavril, and Yuri were training on a variety of weapons. Gregoravich demonstrated one of his deadliest moves with an ax in one hand and a dagger in the other, thrusting animatedly in the air. He had a rapt audience. Mikhail had seen him perform that particular move so many times he’d lost count. Subdue the vampire enemy with an ax to the head, then slit his carotid before he could blink.
“Good job, Emmett, but your aim is a little low,” said Dmitri, drawing Mikhail’s gaze back to the line of archers.
Dmitri was coaching both Caden and Emmett on proper stance and aim when the breeze carried the mouth-watering scent of sunshine and jasmine down the line. His canines extended at once.
“Good morning, Dmitri,” said Brennalyn, Mina close at her side.
Beatrice and Helena walked nearby, watching Caden and Emmett. Izzy ran down the hill, following Nate, Jack, and Denny to the sparring pit, her blond ringlets bouncing.
The sight of Mina—tall and fair and blindingly beautiful—knocked the air from his lungs. It also overcast him in a shadow of regret. He’d fled to Hiddleston last night, seeking a willing blood whore to fuck and feed his lust away, then maybe he could get Mina out of his mind. He’d found a lovely barmaid at the Bull’s Eye who was more than eager to oblige him, right there in a back room of the tavern. As soon as he sank his fangs deep, she’d hiked up her skirt, moaning and grappling with the lacing of his trousers.
When he’d stopped her, Mikhail actually felt remorse for misleading the woman. She’d not asked for payment, but he dropped three sovereigns on the ale barrel anyway and left her in the dark. He’d heard her call him bastard the second before he tore away again into the night. He didn’t stop at the encampment but continued on into the forest, winding up in the shadows outside the little cottage where Mina slept.
She was a magnet, ever drawing him closer. He’d watched over her till dawn, at peace just knowing he was keeping her safe. But also in turmoil for wanting what he couldn’t have. Shouldn’t have. She was right. Dmitri was right. He could have her. If he revealed his family’s tragedy and rewrote the past. All he wanted now was to right the wrongs of the present. Losing himself in the beauty that was Mina was a mistake. A distracted captain was a perilous one.
Yet, here he was, completely enraptured at the first sight of the fair-haired goddess. She approached Dmitri.
“May I have a try?” she asked.
Emmett handed over the bow while Dmitri smiled in his charming way. “Of course. So, stand with your feet square facing in that direction.”
Mikhail refrained from growling when Dmitri placed a hand on her back to guide her.
“Like this?” she asked.
He couldn’t help himself, sidling closer as Dmitri gave her instructions.
“Yes. Now grip the bow and—”
“She needs an armguard first,” Mikhail interrupted, lifting one off the post where they kept the quivers, arrows, and guards. Dmitri smirked at Mikhail as he stepped aside to stand next to Brennalyn.
Ignoring his brother’s implicit accusation with a look, he stood in front of her and lifted her left arm. Without meeting her gaze, he wrapped the guard around her slender forearm and buckled the straps.
“Have you shot a bow before, Your Highness?”
He felt the weight of her gaze, but he remained focused on tightening the straps so it wouldn’t slip. He didn’t want her silken skin to be marred by the snap of a bow string.
“A little,” she whispered intimately.
Unable to deny himself any longer, he lifted his gaze to hers as he dropped her arm. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he wasn’t sure. She held him there with the most serene, gentle expression he’d ever beheld. Her calm exterior only agitated him more, especially when his own emotions were in turmoil with one glance.
He stepped behind her and squared her hips. “Keep your body facing this direction, like Dmitri said.”
“I see.”
“Since you’ve shot a bow before, you know to keep your elbow out and your inner arm flat, correct?” He raised her arm now gripping the bow, aiming it toward the target, a bale of hay with a canvas bull’s-eye.
“Like this?” Her elbow still angled toward the ground, jutting out her inner arm. And though she now wore the guard for protection, his blood rose at the thought of her injuring herself while playing at archery.
“No,” he practically growled and stepped close behind her.
She focused on the target. With his body aligned behind her, he mirrored her stance, gripping his hand over hers on the bow’s handle.
“Look at my arm. See how I’ve turned my arm where my inner arm is flat? That will keep you from getting hit with the string when you let loose. It also gives you more control of the aim.”
“Oh. I see.”
Her heart rate picked up speed. That was when he realized he had a death grip on her waist, keeping her body perfectly molded to his. What he wanted to do was to nuzzle his face into her hair and breathe deep of her essence. Instead, he stepped away and crossed his arms, facing toward the target.
“I think you’ve got it. Just notch an arrow, aim, and let loose.”
“Here you go,” said Dmitri, handing her an arrow from the quiver on the stand.
“Thank you.” She notched the arrow and pulled the string back, her bow tilted slightly upward.
“No,” Mikhail corrected gently. “You’re aiming too high.”
She didn’t reply but aimed a second longer before letting the arrow fly. It hissed through the air, arching upward toward the overhanging tree beside her lane, struck through a single leaf dangling from its branch, then sailed onward in the perfect curve, hitting the target dead center of the bull’s-eye.
Brennalyn laughed behind them. But his eyes were on Mina as she glanced over her shoulder. “Like that?”
So, the princess could be deceptive after all. That was a new discovery.
“You weren’t exaggerating,” said Brennalyn, a bemused expression lighting her face.
He arched an accusing brow at her. “You’ve practiced more than a little archery.”
She placed the bow back in its wooden stand and unbuckled the armguard with quick, deft fingers, like someone who’d done it a thousand times. “A lady should never be too vain about her abilities.” She quirked a smile at him. “Perhaps I was born to be a warrior, not a princess.”
You were born to be a queen, he thought with conviction. He took the guard from her and tossed it to Dmitri, who grinned like the fiend he was. “Would you care to take a walk with me, Your Highness? I’ll show you our training camp.”