Page 83 of Of Blood and Banes (The Arterian #2)

MEANT TO BE YOURS

T he next day at breakfast, I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

A delicious soreness aches between my legs.

Every time I push Darian out of my mind, I move and it sparks a distant reminder.

I have to bite my cheek to not blush. Later, Sethan commands us all to gather near the eastern outskirts of Everden in the forest for sparring.

We haven’t had much time to practice since traveling to and from Vitalis.

While we wait for the letter from Nightfort to confirm the elder’s presence who can potentially translate the journal, we might as well be productive.

The smell of pine sap calms my nervous system as we all gather in a clearing set in the forest. I find Archie immediately and pull him to my side as we wait for some of the matches to end.

Tossing sly glances at Archie, I look for every hint of emotion in his features.

Pain, sadness, joy… something to tell me what happened after dinner the other night with Melaina.

But his face is stone-cold, his attention set on the two soldiers in the middle of the circle sparring.

As soon as the match concludes, I elbow him with a smile. At breakfast, he told me the Everden healer gave him some dragon’s breath to heal his ankle. “You up for it?”

He half-grins. “Always up for kicking your ass.”

With a laugh, I pinch his elbow, and we both stride toward the center and draw our blades. I toss my sword into my left hand as Archie’s eyebrows quirk up.

“Oh…getting really cocky now, are you?” He chuckles. “Going to take it easy on me by using your left hand?”

“Don’t be so sure,” I whisper with a grin.

We burst into a series of strikes, swipes, blocks, and advances. I replay all the moves Darian taught me over the last few lessons, and within minutes, I disarm Archie.

Sweat sticks his sandy blond hair to his forehead, and he bends over to rest his palms on his knees as he looks up at me, panting. “I’m sorry, where did that come from?”

As I open my mouth to answer him, Sethan thunders from the sidelines, “I suppose you’ve outgrown your sparring partner, so it only makes sense to move to a more skilled one.” He motions to his daughter. “Melaina, if you’ll please.”

I sweep an angry glare at Sethan. Archie pats my shoulder to soothe my irritation, shaking his head before he retrieves his sword and returns to the sidelines.

Melaina stalks toward the center, and we both hook each other with an intense glare.

Her metal bracelet feels extra heavy around my wrist now.

I haven’t had a chance to speak to her since we returned.

Based on her and Archie’s expressions, nothing has been resolved yet.

Or if it has, it’s not in the direction I’d prefer.

Without words, we burst into swipes and swings.

Except this time, I’ve become familiar with her movements, and I have Darian’s training at my advantage.

This time, she is equally matched—if not more.

“You can do better than that,” she coos, striking again.

I block her advance with a grunt. “Funny, you were the one to teach me that one.”

“I didn’t teach you everything.” She smirks and swings out at my legs.

Her sword knicks the front of my boot, slicing open the leather. I glare and rear back to kick my opposite heel out toward her knee before she dodges, and I use the opportunity to swipe my blade toward her chest.

She smiles, barely blocking my attack in time, and her eyes soften slightly. “Better. Good.”

We move swipe for swipe as we rotate around the ring, until she swings down toward my shins, and I catch her blade with mine and redirect her up.

She sweeps her blade off mine in a half-circle, opening herself up but moving so quickly that she aims her downward swing right toward my ribs with her eyes glittering with triumph.

It’s too bad she doesn’t know I’ve been training with Darian.

Sometimes, you just have to get creative.

I drop like a stone to the floor, my weight shifting immediately into the balls of my feet as I catch myself in a crouch, and then I fling myself at her lower legs, driving her off balance.

Her breath whooshes out of her as her back slams into the cold, frosty earth.

Before she can regain her breath, I scramble over top of her, pinning her arms underneath my knees and holding the long edge of my blade to her brown throat.

Applause explodes around us like thunder, and I linger, staring her down.

“Well done,” Sethan calls.

I lift off her and extend my hand. Despite her pinched eyebrows, she grabs me and allows me to help her up.

She dusts off her pants and her back, rolling her shoulders to test how sore she is.

Drunk on two wins in a row, I scan the onlookers as I hold my sword, ready for someone who will give me a challenge.

Each face I turn to, everyone is staring, and yet no one steps up.

Heavy footsteps sound behind me, and the gazes of the Arterians and Vitalan soldiers I’m facing widen. I turn, facing my approaching opponent.

Cole.

My mouth falls open. He’s offering to fight me? When all this time he’s refused to put me in any sort of danger or pain?

He nods, so slightly I barely catch it, then raises his sword as he stops a few steps away.

Shit. I’d always wanted Cole to take me seriously and treat me as if I were any other person in his squad.

But now that I stand in front of him, facing down his broad shoulders as they roll back in preparation, his proud chest steady with unhurried breaths, and his jaw set with his warm eyes trained on me…

I’d seen him back in Blackfell with his first kill.

And the entire group of soldiers he slaughtered when I was captured only yesterday.

He’s brutal. And no matter what hand I use, there isn’t a single chance I have against his sheer power.

But the recognition of his respect for me settles between us.

I swallow my apprehension and call upon that deep-rooted anger like Darian taught me. The anger he created by not telling me of his engagement to Celeste. The downfall of what we once were.

I dig into it as if I were sinking my fingers into the soil and drawing it up from the depths of my soul.

I rush forward, swinging my blade out toward his knees, and he blocks me.

We flow into swings and spins. It doesn’t take me long to recognize his hesitancy.

While he strikes me, it lacks the speed and strength of what I know he’s capable of.

Channeling that anger, I grit my teeth and feed that rage into my attacks. Without caging my strength, I lunge forward and drag my sword straight toward his throat. My blade slams into his as he blocks, a vibration ringing up through my arm.

He holds my blade in place with his. Not a single bead of sweat collects on his brow, as if we’re doing something as simple as slow dancing. My muscles strain against his brute strength pressed into the blade, my arms trembling until my legs do as I fight to hold him at bay, and yet…

He’s still.

Holding.

Back.

He can easily knock me on my ass. Right here. Right now. In front of everyone.

“Do it,” I grit out between my clenched teeth, pinning him with a glare.

He shakes his head slightly, jaw tense.

“You’re still…holding…back,” I growl, shoving every last bit of my weight and power into him. “I am not some fragile…little?—”

He explodes with a grunt, releasing his power and knocking me backward. I fall in slow-motion, the trees and sky a blur as I plummet. I squeeze my eyes shut and tense, waiting for the impact. My ass hits the ground first, followed quickly by my back, my shoulders, my?—

Something catches my head before it can slam into the ground, cushioning my fall. Opening my eyes, I find myself staring back into Cole’s golden ones.

Eyebrows furrowed, his mouth parts in a small whisper, “Are you…?”

I nod, pushing myself up off the ground. He slips his hand off the back of my head and offers me a hand, pulling me up to my feet. One by one, the onlookers explode in a clap, cheering just as loud as when I defeated Melaina. I turn, meeting each of their gazes as a small smile spreads my lips.

I glance over my shoulder and mutter, “You?—”

He’s already gone.

I slip off to the forest after dinner and sit near the river’s edge, staring at the water as I absentmindedly brush a hand up and down Daeja’s massive snout until she dozes off next to me.

Marge’s gloves are piled on my thigh. I find comfort in Daeja’s scales, still warm from the fading winter sun, my fingers gliding over each ridge.

Every exhalation she breathes nearly flattens the crisp, frosty grass.

“I’ve been looking for you,” a thick voice calls. Cole shifts in, taking a seat beside me.

“You were the one who left earlier?”

Daeja lifts her head to glance at Cole before she settles back down, tucking her wings into her side even tighter.

He glances at me sideways, warily. “Are you alright?”

I nod and roll my shoulders back, my eyes still glued to the rushing water as an ache ripples through my muscles when I move. “All you did was knock me on my ass. It’s not like you hurt me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His unexpected answer finally tears my gaze away from the water.

He clears his throat when our eyes connect and shifts his gaze down to a patch of grass he fiddles with. “I umm…look. I know you’ve lost a lot of people you care about. And it feels like it’s constantly one thing after another. And…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I suppose I’m as okay as one can be,” I mutter. Glancing down at Daeja underneath my hand, with her eyes closed and breathing easy, a soft smile creeps up my cheeks. When I glimpse the Blood Ring on my finger—Cole’s mother’s ring—my smile fades again.

He must be looking at me now because he asks, “What? What is it?”

“I feel wrong wearing it, you know?” I admit in a whisper.

“Why?”

“Because…” I clear my throat, struggling to form my thoughts into words.

The truth of it is because his mother’s ring had always been a promise of our relationship.

Of our love. Our future. It feels unfair to wear it now—for him and for me.

It makes me feel wrong for wearing it during my nights with Darian.

When all I really want— if I’m honest with myself— is the one thing I can’t have. Him.

I continue, “Because it’s your mother’s. And I feel like you should be the one who has it?—”

He rests his hand on mine, his voice gentle. “Stop. It was always meant to be yours, whether you loved me or not. Whether it was prophesied about you or someone else. I don’t want you to feel guilt over it. The day I met you, I couldn’t imagine it on anyone else.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, my gaze shifting to his strong hand resting overtop of mine. Shaking my head with a laugh that is anything but comical, I mutter, “Gods…I would have never thought we’d end up here…”

“Yeah…” He glances down at our hands. “There are many things of mine that belong to you. That are inherently yours…”

A tension builds in my throat and chest. He doesn’t have to spell it out for me.

He whispers so simply. So honestly. “I am… so sorry, Katerina Blackwind. I’m sorry for who I was. I’m sorry I hurt you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness—I know that. But I will try my damndest to make it up to you someday.”

Then he gives my hand the tiniest squeeze before rising to his feet to leave. After he takes a few steps, and the warmth of his hand fades from mine, I turn to watch him walk away.

“Cole…?”

He pauses mid-step and glances over his broad shoulder at me, his expression unreadable.

“I do forgive you.” The words tremble on my lips, tears sting at my eyes.

He smiles sadly and dips his head. “I know, love.”

Then he continues his walk back to Everden.