Page 87
Story: Us Deadly Few
He chose to stay silent. But the untamed energy didn’t just flow through him.
The pieces of her that enjoyed toying with danger reared its ugly head, desperate to feel something other than fear before descending back into the underground.
“Maybe I prefer him as my trainer.”
The brief tightening of his muscles was her only warning.
One minute she was standing upright. The next, she was sprawled on her back.
Takeshi crouched over her, twirling her fallen blade through his fingertips. “Lie again for me, Kanes.”
“You really are insane,” she gnashed through her teeth, staring into Takeshi’s cold, handsome face.
“Now she gets it.”
His windswept hair was as black as the night sky, and Takeshi’s gaze was as hard as the ground he had her pinned to.
It wasn’t too long ago that he had her restrained in a similarposition in the back of a truck, and she felt something else that was—
No.
No.
She needed to get a grip and stop chasing men who didn’t want her—and had made that abundantly clear—into the storm.
Hell, Takeshiwasthe storm. Barreling into her life. Knocking down her inhibitions.
She needed to focus on what was important. And that was getting into Hermes and figuring out how to rescue thousands of innocent people in Apollo who would die soon from crop failure.
“Give me back my knife,” she demanded.
Takeshi kept twirling it through his fingers, staring straight into her green eyes. Like he wanted to dive into her mind and pry out every secret, so nothing was hidden from him.
After a long stare-down, he extended the blade toward her. She snatched it quickly and stood, fighting to regain her composure.
But when Khalani shoved past him, he blocked her path. “If you value the Death-Zoner’s life, don’t do that again.”
“I can talk and train with whomever I want, Takeshi. If you don’t like it, that sounds like ayouproblem.”
A part of her knew that provoking him was an invitation to play with death and all his creatures. But she was too prideful to back down.
His expression hardened, jaw tightening, but Takeshi swiftly composed himself and tilted his head. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Yes. You can train and talk with whomever you wish, Kanes. You’re not mine.”
Khalani’s pulse hammered like she was dangling off the edge of a cliff. “I’m not?”
“You say that like a question.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line, determined not to say another word.
Takeshi was the one to break the silence.
“No, you aren’t mine, Kanes. If you were, you’d know it.” He leaned closer, his black eyes scorching. “I don’t like to share.”
15
The pieces of her that enjoyed toying with danger reared its ugly head, desperate to feel something other than fear before descending back into the underground.
“Maybe I prefer him as my trainer.”
The brief tightening of his muscles was her only warning.
One minute she was standing upright. The next, she was sprawled on her back.
Takeshi crouched over her, twirling her fallen blade through his fingertips. “Lie again for me, Kanes.”
“You really are insane,” she gnashed through her teeth, staring into Takeshi’s cold, handsome face.
“Now she gets it.”
His windswept hair was as black as the night sky, and Takeshi’s gaze was as hard as the ground he had her pinned to.
It wasn’t too long ago that he had her restrained in a similarposition in the back of a truck, and she felt something else that was—
No.
No.
She needed to get a grip and stop chasing men who didn’t want her—and had made that abundantly clear—into the storm.
Hell, Takeshiwasthe storm. Barreling into her life. Knocking down her inhibitions.
She needed to focus on what was important. And that was getting into Hermes and figuring out how to rescue thousands of innocent people in Apollo who would die soon from crop failure.
“Give me back my knife,” she demanded.
Takeshi kept twirling it through his fingers, staring straight into her green eyes. Like he wanted to dive into her mind and pry out every secret, so nothing was hidden from him.
After a long stare-down, he extended the blade toward her. She snatched it quickly and stood, fighting to regain her composure.
But when Khalani shoved past him, he blocked her path. “If you value the Death-Zoner’s life, don’t do that again.”
“I can talk and train with whomever I want, Takeshi. If you don’t like it, that sounds like ayouproblem.”
A part of her knew that provoking him was an invitation to play with death and all his creatures. But she was too prideful to back down.
His expression hardened, jaw tightening, but Takeshi swiftly composed himself and tilted his head. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Yes. You can train and talk with whomever you wish, Kanes. You’re not mine.”
Khalani’s pulse hammered like she was dangling off the edge of a cliff. “I’m not?”
“You say that like a question.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line, determined not to say another word.
Takeshi was the one to break the silence.
“No, you aren’t mine, Kanes. If you were, you’d know it.” He leaned closer, his black eyes scorching. “I don’t like to share.”
15
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