Page 92
Story: Long Live the Elf Queen
Other obstacles? Like what? And how was that fair?
“We can’t kill him, but he can kill us?” Thane drawled. “And if he has to cheat to win, he shouldn’t be the guardian of the scepter.”
“You are on our land. You must play by our rules. No one ever said it would be fair. No one told you you had to fight him. The choice is yours.” He looked at his fingernails.
Piper eyed him skeptically. “What do you stand to gain from this? Do you have no loyalty to your family? Or did your parents ask you to help prepare them?”
“Elves are so distrustful.” He lifted a shoulder. “Look, I’m as curious about exploring other realms as anyone. If the legends are true and you two can get us to our original realm, I’m willing to help you get there. And if not, well, we get to watch you be slaughtered in the arena.”
Ronan waved his hand and out of thin air two swords appeared and hovered beside him. With a push of magic, the swords floated over to Layala and Thane. “We give all competitors at least a fighting chance by allowing them our weapons. You’ll need these. Your weapons will break on dragon scales. And even if he doesn’t shift into his beast form, he’ll certainly be armored with scales.”
“I’m curious,” Layala asked, sheathing her sword, and grasping the other. The handle was made from gold of course, with a red jewel in the pommel; the blade wide and shiny silver. “If it were up to you, would you have us fight your brother for the scepter?”
“All fight my brother for the scepter. It’s the way.”
Without saying anything, Thane swung his sword at Layala. She brought her blade up and blocked his light chop. The ping of the weapons echoed in the forest clearing. Thane still used his own swords, to make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt her, no doubt. The dragon blades could cut through dragon-scale armor. “It’s been too long since either one of us sparred.” He smacked her hard on the left shoulder. His sword bounced off her, but it stung, and she suppressed a wince. “A little rusty?” He teased and stepped to the side.
“Oh, you’re asking for a beating.” Layala swung at his thigh; he promptly blocked it.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Their swords clashed over and over in quick succession.
“Keep being a naughty boy and see what happens.”
“Will you threaten to slay me? I do so enjoy that.” He parried her strike and somehow wrapped his arm around her torso from behind, tugging her hard against him. He slipped his sword to her throat and raised her chin. “Tonight, when those pretty thighs are wrapped around me,” he purred, “I want you to be as feisty as you are now. You don’t need to be shy.”
Layala swallowed hard as heat flooded her body. She elbowed him in the gut and shoved his arm away, twisting out of his grasp. Now her blade point was at his throat, and she marched him backward into a tree. He grinned, thoroughly enjoying this. She didn’t know how she ever resisted him for so long before. “And you’re so certain you can have me tonight?”
“You’re bewitching when you threaten me. My absolutely beautiful, enchanting, betrothed.”
She lowered her sword. “I don’t know if I’ve forgiven you yet for saying I could simply walk away and would survive your death so easily.” Weapons clashed again, but both of them were relaxed. It felt good just to swing a sword and move her body again. She enjoyed the burn from pushing her long-ignored muscles.
“I’m sorry. Shall I get on my knees before you, so you’ll forgive me? You’re the only one I’ve ever gotten on my knees for.” He struck harder and faster now, putting her on the defensive, pushing her back. Now she was the one pinned to a tree. He pressed his sword against her, resting the blade on her chest. Maker, she loved and hated how good he was with a sword, as if the ability was a gift the same as his natural means to heal quickly. “I’ll start by kissing your thighs, beginning on the outer, then sliding my way to the soft inside. After you shudder with pleasure, I’ll work my way just a little higher until I hear you moan, quiet at first.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, she felt out of breath. From the sparring or his seduction, she couldn’t be sure. He leaned down and brushed his lips over her jawline. “Mm, you smell good when you’re aroused.”
“Thane, they can probably hear you,” she whispered, cheeks burning, eyes darting to Piper and Prince Ronan who luckily were paying more attention to each other than them.
“Does it look like I care?” he asked and kissed her cheek. “Now if you want to hear the rest, you have to get through my defenses and strike a vital part of me. A nick on the forearm doesn’t count.”
“When I get through your defenses, you’llshowme the rest.” She slid her hand up his chest then shoved him away.
His answering grin warmed her to the core. “Alright, Lightbringer. Let’s see if you got it. And not to brag but no one has landed what would be considered a critical blow in a sparring match since I was fourteen years old. However, I might still give you a consolation prize for the effort.”
Laughing, Layala stepped around him. “I think you’ve forgotten how many times I’ve held a blade to your neck, Athayel.”
“That has only happened when I allowed it.”
Layala’s eyebrow ticked upward. “You’re still going with the story you let me in your room some months ago?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “You intrigued me then and even more now. I even heard your heart pounding from across the room.”
She shook her head in disbelief and sliced her blade through the air with awhoosh. It clashed against Thane’s left-handed blade with acrack. “Oh, she’s bringing the heat. You must really want to know what else I plan to do to you.”
Clack, clack clack,they hit swords again and again. It wasn’t long before sweat beaded on her hairline. They danced around each other, striking and blocking. But no one laid out any rules, did they? She let the itch of her power cascade through her body, and her magical black vine worked its way up Thane’s ankle like a serpent. He went to step, and then looked down as it climbed up his thigh. Layala smiled and another vine climbed his other leg, effectively trapping him in one place. With a wave of her hand, she bound his wrists and cinched them together. He smiled even as he shook his head and dropped his arms down. Both his sword points fell into the dirt. Layala sauntered closer and pressed the tip of her blade over his heart. “Is this a critical strike?”
He was out of breath when he said, “I surrender.”
Off to the side, Ronan clapped. “Bravo. It seems my brother will be outmatched in the sword. So, I’m certain he’ll shift into his dragon form rather quickly. I suggest you don’t play nice.”
Layala heard him but her focus was on Thane and the primal gaze pinned on her. He would strip her bare right then and there if they didn’t have an audience. She was certain of it. She slid her blade between Thane’s wrists and cut him loose from her magical vines.
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