Page 186 of Never Kiss a Fae

That’s it. Lose control. See how that works out for you.

Titus should have sidestepped my onslaught and let me wear myself out. The strain was already pounding in my skull, my reserves threatening to admit they were empty, but that wasn’t Titus’s style. He rushed at me head-on and barreled through the thickest part of my waves, expending his energy as he billowed fire to evaporate a path directly at me.

His fist, a ball of flames, aimed straight at my face.

I dodged his punch and allowed his momentum to slam him into the wall of water at my back, making him buckle and lose his balance.

I pinned Titus to the soaked, sandy pit. His heat glazed the surface with raw energy until it melted smooth, and he clawed against it, my waters rushing in, targeting his flames and making his fingers slip against the fresh glass. “You better make this look good, Titus.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” I released him, only to be surprised as he shut off his flames completely. Without heat for my waters to target, the resulting wave crashed over both of us, causing me to lose my balance.

Titus moved fast—too fast—and swept my legs out from under me, sending me to the ground.

I raised a hand to send my waters crashing into him, but did so half-heartedly. Oh, to the audience, it would look like I tried, his armor of fire sizzling against my element. And that was all that mattered.

He rushed in, hard and fast, and his fist connected with my jaw, leaving a sharp crack to ring through the arena.

A hush settled over the crowd, stunned.

The king had been struck.

The unfamiliar pain that jolted through my body made me feel alive. No one ever got close enough to strike me, much less do any real damage—no one except my brother.

I twisted and sent one last rope of water at Titus, flinging him away from me, but it was more for show than anything else.

Mortus’s obsidian eyes gleamed from the audience, exactly as I desired. If the pompous prick thought he could find my weakness by watching me fight Titus, then he was in for a disappointment.

My only weakness was my greatest strength, and she was far away, saving my brother from darkness.

Exos, I hope Claire is in your arms now and you’re safely on your way back to us.

Without my spirit, I couldn’t sense him, but I sensed Claire. Her healthy glow caused me to smile, which probably resembled a grimace to the crowd.

I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth, and it came back bloody.

Staggering to my feet, I crouched into a warrior’s stance and grinned. “Powerless duel?” I taunted him.

Titus rolled his fingers into fists and readied himself, all signs of his embers dying in the wind along with my water. “You want a beating?” He shrugged his shoulders. “All right.”

He came at me, fast and without mercy, blow after blow landing, but I got in a few of my own.

“That all you got?” he taunted.

“I could do this all night,” I replied, meaning it.

I dodged and then blocked, taking the hit hard on my forearm before connecting my elbow with his jaw. Titus’s entire body jerked up against the blow. It would have left any other fae reeling, but he recovered with impressive speed. My admiration for him grew by the second.

His eyes glowed with embers, but he didn’t use his fire on me. Instead, he took the next hit in the gut, his core clenching hard to absorb the blow, and used the opening to wrap his fingers around my throat, twisting me so that my back arched and put me off balance.

“Having fun yet?” he growled, his rage palpable.

Whether it was from the fight, or at me, I didn’t know. Likely both.

It didn’t take a genius to understand his fury. I’d mated with Claire, and in his mind, I didn’t deserve her.

And maybe he was right.