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“You need to train,” he repeated.

“I’ll train in other ways.”

“Is that what this is about?” Zandren asked. “Little One doesn’t want to rip into your brain and you want her to?”

Drak only dignified him with a grunt.

My Pooh Bear rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, you stubborn bat, listen to her.”

I smiled at Zandren. “Thank you.”

Red crept up Drak’s neck into his face, and his nostrils flared even more.

This vampire was infuriating. Not only was he keeping something from me, and keeping me at arm’s length, but now he was insisting that I make sloppy joe meat out of his gray matter—again. The man was more of a masochist than Maxar—and that was saying a lot. Finally, with my eyes nearly going cross from our stare-off, I broke eye contact again, threw my arms up in the air, and growled. “I’m not doing it, and you can’t make me. Fuck off, Bat Boy. Go rest. I’ll be in the training room.” I headed for the door, then spun around at the threshold. “Drak, Your Queen orders you to go rest. Zandren, Maxar, please meet me in the training room when you’re ready.”

Drak looked ready to explode.

I didn’t fucking care.

My two bonded mates didn’t say anything, but they both nodded. Then I took off to go to the training room to stretch. I’d only been practicing sparring and wielding a sword for a few days. My uncle had been training for years. If I intended to defend my crown, I needed more practice.

I was in a sitting, wide-legged, forward fold with my forehead and chest on the ground when I picked up the unique scents of my bonded mates. The door to the training room opened, even though it didn’t make a sound. I could just feel the vibrations of it in the air and on the floor.

Their footsteps were feather light as they approached me silently from behind.

I smiled.

The training had already started.

Yellow flames shot out from behind me, lighting up the room. I was on my feet, spinning around, and shooting yellow flames of my own at Maxar. He grinned and created a yellow flame-sword, then charged at me with a battle cry. I ducked and maneuvered away from him, only to be caught by Zandren from behind, his arms around me, putting me in a hold that immobilized my upperbody.

I was already out of breath.

With a jump that I definitely couldn’t have done before the Fates intervened and bonded me with these two agile, sexy specimens, I did a back flip up and over Zandren’s head, forcing him to release me. My legs were on his shoulders and with a twist I could have broken his neck—the way he taught me to—but instead, I tucked my feet under his arms and spun us around so he landed face first down on the mat with a grunt. I leaped back up to my feet just in time to dodge yellow flame-balls hurled at me by Maxar.

Reaching for Moloch’s Sacrifice, my enormous sword, I channeled flames of my own—these ones were a pretty gold color—to travel up the blade.

I gripped the handle with both hands, waving the sword in front of me.

But Maxar stopped and simply stared in awe.

Zandren was back on his feet, his chest heaving.

“What?” I asked, not letting down my guard in case this was a fake out.

“I’ve never seen flames that color before,” my mage said, stepping forward cautiously, then poking a finger into the gold and copper fire. “How did you … what are your emotions right now?”

With my chest still heaving, I studied the flames. I didn’t really think too much about conjuring them. Just that I wanted to make Moloch’s Sacrifice a fire sword. I hadn’t yet mastered the art of making my own fire swords like Maxar. So this was a decent substitute.

I shrugged, still on guard as my chest heaved. “I dunno. I mean … this is fun.” I glanced back and forth between both of them. “It feels a little bit like foreplay though, right?”

Pink flames flickered with the gold.

Maxar’s brows nearly met his hairline. Zandren seemed shocked too.

“Babe,” Maxar said softly, “you’re turned on right now?”

“You can’t smell that she is?” Zandren asked, his pupils dilating just as he took a big inhale. “She’s very aroused.”