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Valdus catches the sleeve of my shirt, pulling me back against him, wrapping his hand around my middle. “Promise me something,” he murmurs in my ear.

“Anything.”

“You’ll let me do all the fighting.”

Instead of the promise Valdus awaits, I beckon him toward the garden and throw him one of my swords. He catches it before the blade could fully retract. As I slide my feet over the sand and point my sword at him, a shadow of a smile breaks on Valdus’s lips. “What is the meaning of this?”

I swing my sword, and he leans back far enough for the blade not to graze his skin.

“You want to play this game?” he asks and catches the next swing with a clash of metal ringing all the way to my shoulder.

He pulls away and strikes. I duck and roll away, coming at his side, but Valdus is already waiting for me there. He steps around my sword and puts a kiss on my lips. I pull away and poke at his defenses with a series of slashes. He blocks each time, but he doesn’t seem to care much if I get close to his right arm, leaving it open.

When his next swing comes, I duck and whirl to his right. I feign a strike at his feet, and as he brings his sword down to block me, I step closer and slash at his arm.

Valdus steps away as he looks at the metal shining through the hole. He glances up, and I offer him the most radiant of smiles.

Without a warning, Valdus slashes at me and shows me he has seen a weakness in my defense too. A rip in my shirt reveals my arm. His blade has left nothing but a shallow scratch that won’t even blossom with blood.

“I thought you said you bound them so they would be sharp only in my hands.”

Valdus chuckles. “I’m a metal binder, Neylan. I’ll bend the rules in my favor any chance I can.” He turns the sword in his hand. “That said, I won’t ever hurt you.”

“All right,” I say and brush my wound, healing the prickling scratch. “Give me your second best, then.”

As Valdus catches my next swing, he searches my eyes. “You’re trying to make a point.”

“Maybe I am,” I say and pull away. I barely have time to avoid his whooshing blade, and we resume our dance of sweat and steel.

By the time we stop, our shirts have been discarded long ago, sweat making our tank tops stick to our skin. Neither of us landed more than a few scratches that I’ve healed the moment we inflicted them, and only a few drops of blood speckle our clothing.

“I must say,” Valdus says, letting the sword fold back into the grip even if he’s still holding it. “You’re good for someone who had no formal training.”

With his guard down, he doesn’t have time to react as I step close and bring the tip of my sword to his neck. He stiffens, even if I know he won’t let it open his skin.

“Neylan?”

I slide the blade down to his heart. “I promise I’ll let you do all the shooting,” I say. “But I won’t let you take this fight from me.”

“You could have said so.”

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

Valdus catches the blade of my sword, wrapping it with his metal fingers and lowering it away from his chest. Yet he doesn’t let go, and only tugs me closer, until it’s my free hand resting over the sun of black ink rising above his tank top with every breath he takes.

“Can you blame me?” he says in a voice filled with gravel. “This desert has given me something other than pain for once.” He brushes my bangs out of my eyes, searching for something in their depth. “How could I put you in harm’s way when I don’t know how I’ve lived my whole life without you in it? How could I put you in danger when I love you?”

My lips form a small O at his words. He steals even it away with another kiss that tastes of salt and metal. I could spend an eternity savoring it, but too soon, Valdus pulls away, and for the first time, uncertainty shadows his features.

“Do you?” Valdus murmurs. “Love me, that is.”

“With my every heartbeat.”

I let go of my sword and run my fingers through his hair, bringing him crashing back onto my lips. I can hear him dropping the sword, but it’s his hand tugging me close that ignites the skin of my back. We stumble to the bench, our lips never parting as his fingers keep exploring my bare skin, stopping only for a moment on the scar from the bullet that brought us together. I let my fingers run down his shoulders with no way to be sure that my caress brings him the same tingle his touch gives me. When he sighs against me, I start to think it does, but then he stiffens and leans his forehead against mine.

“Go away,” Valdus says, and I pull back with a frown.

It’s only when I notice him looking over my shoulder that I realize he’s not talking to me.