Page 27

LILY

My father was in his full armor with his cape, the symbol of the dragon in the center of his chest. He spun the sword around his wrist the way he always did before a battle commenced.

Zehemoth lay in the grass to watch our interaction, his eyes glued to us for entertainment. My father had brought us to the meadow so we could practice on the soft earth rather than the hard cobblestones of the courtyard.

He circled me and tried to pretend to decide where to strike when he already knew before he drew his sword. He stopped and stared me down, an act of intimidation that hadn’t worked in years. “I’m not going to go easy on you anymore, Zunieth .”

“Good.”

A subtle flash of pride moved across his eyes.

I wondered if Wrath was there. There were times when I thought I felt his presence. Felt the white-hot intensity that only he could produce. But I would never know because he only revealed himself to me in the absence of others.

My father launched himself at me, and he made good on his word and gave me a version of himself he’d never shown before. He was quicker, faster, and more ruthless than he’d ever been before.

I barely had the chance to block his sword when he came at me again, slicing his blade from my neck. There wasn’t time to react, so I used my vambraces to block his sword and drive him back.

But he was on top of me again, smothering me with his attack, using his free arm to slam into my body to topple me back.

I kept up, but barely, spending all my time on defense.

“Move faster—or he will defeat you.”

I dodged my father’s two-handed strike then scurried away to put distance between us.

He appeared feet away, standing in his full uniform and armor, a man who had more muscle than my own father.

I couldn’t respond, not without making it obvious I spoke to someone that only I could see.

My father didn’t let up, coming at me just the way those Barbarians had.

“You focus so much on your arms that you forget your feet.” Wrath circled us as we continued to fight, watching my movements and critiquing them in real time. “You will never defeat him in strength, only speed. Move with purpose, and your sword will follow.”

I was out of breath and already tired.

My father gave me no mercy.

“Come on, Xivin .”

“Argh.” I sidestepped my father’s sword then moved with a burst of energy, blocking the next hit then coming at him with a flurry of blows, ducking when his sword came at my neck, but still driving him back, retaking the advantage until I was the one on top of him.

My father’s eyes widened.

“Yes, Xivin .” Wrath moved with us, his eyes hardening in excitement.

As if it truly were a life-and-death battle, my father took the first opening he could find and slammed his fist into my chest plate to stagger me back, using his strength against me when he couldn’t outmatch my speed.

I was winded as I stumbled back.

“Your feet,” Wrath repeated.

I caught my father’s blade with my own then spun it around and pushed him back. I punched him in the face then slammed my elbow down on his arm, doing my best to wrest his blade from his grasp.

But he held on with a dying grip, rammed me with his shoulder, and sent me flying back.

I landed on my back—and dropped my sword.

Wrath stayed with me. “Move.”

I rolled out of the way before my father’s death blow came down for me. I grabbed the sword along the way then kicked my feet out in the hope I would trip my father. I felt my shin hit armor, and he lost his balance for a mere second.

It was enough time for me to get to my feet and come at him again. I was dead tired, sweat pouring down my face, winded from my father’s strikes. “Argh!” I came at him hard and struck down his blade with all my strength, expecting him to underestimate how hard I would hit.

His sword dropped.

“ Yes .” Wrath stepped away and gave us space.

My father chose to come for me instead of retrieving the sword. It was the right move because I would have gone for his neck. But he came at me with his fists and his size, which was somehow more intimidating than his blade.

He caught my blade with his vambraces and used his sleek armor to deflect the blows that landed on him. He was fast and strong, and his experience in battle shone through. He slammed his elbow down hard on my wrist, right into his thigh—and knocked the blade clean out of my hand.

He didn’t give me a chance to react before he punched me right in the face.

I felt the blood drip from my nose instantly, felt the bruise that would be there the next day.

I ducked his next hit and then the next, avoiding his fists until I finally caught his arm between mine. I forced it down and spun it back before I kicked him in the knee.

He dropped down, and that was when I prepared to slam my elbow onto his head. “Hit.” I didn’t complete the blow, not when a blow like that could do serious or permanent damage to his mind or body.

My father remained on one knee, equally sweaty and exhausted. Winded, he breathed for several seconds.

I stepped back, both of our blades lost somewhere in the grass.

Wrath stood off to the side. There was a knowing look in his gaze, a hint of admiration. Then he gave a nod before he vanished on the spot.

My father rose to his full height and ripped his gloves off his hands one by one.

Then he made his hand into a fist and beat it once against the armor over his chest. “That’s my girl.

” He walked toward me before he gripped me by the shoulder.

“You’ve gotten better since the last time we fought.

” He looked at me and didn’t cringe at the blood that came from my nose.

I swiped it away and sniffed. “We used to spar on the ship to pass the time.”

“You’ve learned from new opponents. That’s strengthened your reflexes. Your footwork is better too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a linen for me. “Are you alright?”

I took it and dabbed at my nose. “I’m fine, Dad.”

“Are you sure?” It was the first time he’d shown guilt for striking me.

“It didn’t even hurt.”

His eyes lightened slightly. “Do me a favor, and don’t tell your mother about this.”

“Trust me, I know how she gets.”

“I feel like a worthless father for striking you, but I can’t train you unless I do it.”

“I know.” When the bleeding stopped, I pocketed the linen. “And I’m better for it.”

“I really did give you the best I had—without Khazmuda’s strength. You’re a remarkable fighter, Lily.” Sincerity shone through his words and reached his eyes. “There’s always room for improvement, but you stand before me as a fierce opponent.”

“You think I’d best Hawk?”

He smirked. “It wouldn’t even be close.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “As I said before, he doesn’t have the same depth.”

“Sometimes I feel like your favorite,” I said with a chuckle.

The smile faded, and the merriment to his mood did too. There was a heavy pause, a silence filled with so many things he didn’t say. “I’d always wanted a daughter. So, when you were born, it meant the world to me.”

“But families always want sons,” I said. “What made you want a girl?”

His eyes glazed over as the silence stretched. A painful smile moved over his lips, and he drew a sudden breath before he looked away. It took him a moment to look at me once more, a sea of pain in his eyes but its origins a mystery. “I just did.”

I had dinner with my mom in the dining room, just the two of us. Dad was off with Khazmuda, and Hawk was in the village.

I had bruising on my face, but my mom didn’t ask about it.

My dad must have already mentioned it. I just wasn’t sure if he told her the truth…or made up something else.

“Your father was really impressed with your spar today.”

“He was?” I grabbed the bottle and refilled my glass. I would normally be thinking about that battle nonstop, but now something else had taken my focus. Dark eyes on a white beach. Warmth in the sheets. A man who had possessed my soul even though he promised not to take it.

“Went on about it for an hour straight.” The fire burned in the hearth behind her, and she sipped her wine rather than focused on her dinner. She smirked slightly. “Didn’t understand most of what he said, but he was excited like a child.”

“I worked really hard.” I’d trained every day since I was a child, and even though I’d told my father I wanted to pursue my own interests, I’d continued to practice. I didn’t want to waste the skills I’d worked so hard to perfect.

“I know you did, sweetheart.” She gave a gentle smile. “I’m very proud of you. Even with the blood of dragons in my veins, I could never fight the way you do. You definitely have Rothschild blood, and that’s something I can never have, only pass on.”

“You’re too pretty to fight anyway, Mom.”

Her smile widened, and color moved into her cheeks. “Stop.”

“You are.”

“You’re far prettier than I was at your age.”

I rolled my eyes. “We are the same age.” Even though we looked like sisters, I would always see her as my mom.

The relationship had slowly changed since I’d left the house, and a different kind of friendship had been formed.

I think our closeness in physical age contributed to that too.

In a couple more years, my father and brother really would look like brothers.

“So, how are you?” she asked before she swirled her wine. “Adjusted to home yet?”

Home didn’t feel the same, not when a new man had entered my life. He could be in this room at that very moment, watching the two of us bond from the shadows. I thought about him constantly, wondered when he would appear and hold me close.

My mother waited for me to answer the question.