Page 25

Chapter 25

SONDAR CLAPS HIS HANDS ONCE, and the loud sound reverberates off the clear walls of the simulator. “Okay, what are we fighting until? First blood? Knockout?”

“Submission,” Aeson interjects, not missing a beat, his arrogant grin grating as he turns it on me.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Good luck with that,” I mumble, but don’t outright object.

“Hard limits?” Sondar inquires.

“Biting, hair pulling, and eye gouging,” I briskly list off.

The male nods, tucking a long lock of blue-black hair behind one ear as he keys things into a band on his wrist. He turns to Aeson. “Scion?”

“Her hard limits are fine. I don’t have any to add. I, for one, like a dirty fight.” He glances pointedly over at me, but there’s no playful air or hint of teasing; he looks determined and formidable.

I work not to react, mostly to the annoying heat that starts to pool low in my belly at his words. Something in his tone gives me pause. It’s not the innuendo or even the taunting intonation, it’s the declaration ringing through the statement. It’s as though he’s letting me know that he’s willing to do anything and everything to win, and I don’t think he’s referring to just this fight.

Is he on to me?

Does he know I’m on to him?

“Weapons?” Sondar asks, like he’s reading off a doomsday checklist.

“None,” Aeson declares, a challenging glint in his eyes.

I shrug, feigning indifference. Inside, however, I’m spinning with concern. I was really hoping for a bow-staff or maybe a missile launcher to help me go up against the scion’s strength and size. Looks like speed and smarts are going to have to cut it.

Evenly matched, my ass.

“Any opinions about location, or should I let the simulator randomly choose?” Sondar queries, his dark gaze fixed on the wristband as he continues to program the parameters of this fight into the sim’s systems.

An idea occurs to me, and I pounce on it. “I have an opinion,” I declare, and both males turn to me with a questioning brow.

I don’t say anything more, and Sondar strides over, offering me his arm so I can access the keypad and screen on his device. Selecting the search window, I type in my selection. Excitement trills through me when I find exactly what I’m looking for. My smile is wide and satisfied as I load the environment into the system, and Sondar steps back. He looks down at what I chose and chuckles, shaking his head.

“Good one, Frills,” Sondar accedes, and my smile instantly dies.

“Ever. My name is Ever. Why is that so hard for all of you?” I grump, already knowing it’s a lost cause.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you call me Spare again while I think about it,” Aeson retorts, looking just as put out as I feel.

A snort of a laugh escapes me.

Touché.

“All right. I just need to administer the eye drops, and you two can get on with your…uh…whatever the fuck this is,” Sondar teases, and laughter erupts from Aeson’s Wing over in the spectator seats at the end of the room.

“What are those for?” I ask as Sondar holds a dropper over one of Aeson’s eyes and then the other.

“These connect you with the simulator’s virtual environment. When the program is over, the tech deactivates and your body flushes it out in a day or so.”

Ignoring the tinge of disquiet that hums through me, I nod and tip my head back so he can drop the tech in my eyes. I’ve come this far, it’s all or nothing at this point.

The drops are cold and somewhat shocking. I blink the slight sting away, my vision hazy but quickly clearing. Not sure what to expect, I look around, but I only see the same diaphanous walls of the simulator and the training room beyond. Then I blink again and I’m standing in the torrid sun, surrounded by the endless black sand dunes of The Scorch.

Home sweet home.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back, feeling the full wrath of a sun I know isn’t really there. I pull in deep lungfuls of clean, arid air and detect the subtlest notes of petrichor in the blistering breeze. It must have rained not too long ago.

The sensory feedback of this simulation is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Of course, I knew tech like this existed in theory, but experiencing it is a whole other matter. Part of me is tempted to start walking, to try to get home. I know it’s impossible, that I’m not really in the deadlands, but it feels so real, smells and looks real, and my heart aches for it all the same.

A deep and profound loneliness all at once consumes me, and I wonder if this will be the closest I’ll ever get to The Scorch again. Will home only be within reach through tech-altered senses—never in truth?

An electric buzzing suddenly skitters across my skin, and my eyes snap open to find a thin, barely there, translucent coating covering my entire body. This must be the bio shield Ventis mentioned earlier.

I look over to see Aeson has the same subtle glimmer of tech surrounding him, and he’s shifting his weight from foot to foot in obvious discomfort.

Looks like the sand is too hot for the scion’s delicate feet.

Good.

“Take your positions,” Sondar shouts, pointing to two white circles in the sand about thirty feet apart.

My pulse instantly picks up with excitement, and nerves prod at the sleeping butterflies in my stomach, waking them up until my insides feel like a quivering, flapping mess.

I can do this.

I can beat him.

Easily, I stride over to my mark and then turn and watch Aeson as he struggles not to sink into the sand with every step he takes. I wave away the satisfaction that blooms in my chest with his efforts. There’s no point getting ahead of myself. I have no doubt a little heat and sand aren’t going to keep him down for nearly as long as I’d like.

“The chime will indicate you can begin. Remember, no biting, no hair pulling, no eye gouging, or you’ll be disqualified. Otherwise, the first to submit loses,” Sondar declares, but he’s nothing more than a disembodied voice floating amidst a sea of black sand.

“You can tap out anytime,” Aeson calls to me as he finally makes it to his mark.

“Eat sand,” I croon back with a wide, dimple-flashing smile.

Adrenaline floods me, and I slow my breathing in an effort to calm the steady thundering of my pulse. A bead of sweat slips down my temple, and more starts to pool in the hollows of my collarbone. I picture Craith or Iker across from me instead of the dragon scion. Imagine the way they’d taunt and circle me in the training pit back home.

A sharp note peals through the hot undulating air, and I tense. My focus narrows on the only thing that now matters. Destroying Aeson Noctis.

He stands on his mark, eyes sharp and eager, as he studies me. “Ready to show me what you’ve got, Claws?” he asks, his smirk taunting.

He says something else, but I tune him out, taking Ventis’s advice and setting the pace. I start walking toward the commander, my speed picking up with every stride until I’m all out sprinting. Surprise flares in Aeson’s eyes, and his jaw tightens as he watches me come for him. He quickly adopts a strong defensive position, his knees bent and his hands ready at his side.

Less than ten feet away, I start to get low as I sprint across the sand. He matches my positioning, using his fighting prowess to read my body language, which is telling him I’m coming in for a hard body tackle. When I’m almost on him, we both dive at each other. Only I don’t go low like Aeson’s expecting, I aim high and clear him altogether.

I soar over him, weightless and floating for a fraction of a second before sand explodes all around us as the scion tackles nothing and drops hard to the ground. He recovers quickly, rolling back onto his feet just as I touch down behind him, but I’m already running deeper toward a large hill of sand where it’ll be harder for his big heavy frame to maneuver and easier for me to start tiring him out.

A deep threatening rumble vibrates across the desert floor behind me, and I feel Aeson’s growl roll through me as clearly as I hear it bouncing off the hillside of dunes in front of us.

“You can’t run forever,” Aeson warns, his voice like rolling thunder.

I sense him giving chase behind me, but I don’t waste time turning to look. All my focus is on gaining ground. But as I run, something uncurls in my depths, responding to the resounding growl of the predator behind me.

I just start to make it up the gritty slope I was aiming for when I feel him at my back. Without a second of hesitation, I dive forward. Massive arms wrap around my thighs, throwing off my center of gravity, but I manage to get the handfuls of sand I was aiming for. I twist, as Aeson tries to pull me closer, and toss the sand in his face, aiming for his airways.

He ducks his head to try to avoid the onslaught, loosening his grip enough that I’m able to scramble away from him.

“How’s that for dirty, asshole?” I snap, flipping back onto my feet and aiming a kick at his head.

I connect with his shoulder when he quickly drops back to protect his face and skull. He grabs for my leg, but I retract it too fast. With an unexpected burst of speed, he dives for me with a snarl.

Shit.

Throwing myself to the side, I coil, mid-air, and just barely avoid his massive reach. I land, and somehow he’s already there trying to swipe my legs out from under me. I jump to avoid it, but he clips one foot and I go down. Pain blooms in my shoulder and side as I crash to the ground. Sand plumes around us as we slide through the onyx grains. I try to angle myself to get in a few hits, but he covers me too quickly with his massive body and starts to work to pin me.

“You’re good, and fast, but you’ll have to do better than that, Claws.”

I land two succinct elbows to his ribs, and he grunts in response, even though I’m pretty sure it hurts me more than it hurts him.

“Are you made of fucking stone?” I croak as he presses his full weight onto me and tries to pin me in the sand.

But this is my terrain, not his, and I simply sink and squirm, the loose ground not giving him the purchase he needs to properly hold me in place. I wiggle out from under him enough to aim a knee for his nose, but he swiftly lifts a hand and stops me. I throw more sand in his face, and he roars at me when I manage to kick free and start scrambling away from him like some slippery desert crab.

“That’s getting old,” he grumbles, spitting sand out of his mouth, and then he really starts moving, almost like he was in first gear before and now he’s warmed up and ready to go.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I spend the next sixty seconds of my life dodging and weaving his brutal strikes with only millimeters of space to spare and nothing but panic and instinct pumping in my veins.

Suddenly, Aeson loses his footing when he steps into sand that’s looser and deeper on this part of the dune, and I’m on him, capitalizing on his mistake with a crisp roundhouse that connects right with his jaw.

The crack of unforgiving bone on bone vibrates up my leg, and his head forcefully snaps to the side. I follow through with another kick to his inner thigh and then move in for the kill, but he uses my own dirty trick of sand to the face to force me back.

I blink granules from my lashes and spit more out of my mouth. I’m breathing heavily as I regroup, assessing my options as Aeson drags a thumb across his lips like he expects it to be bleeding. It’s not. His bio shield has done exactly what it’s designed to and kept him from sustaining any actual damage.

I smile over at him as he cracks his neck and takes me in.

“You can tap out anytime,” I taunt.

The tip of Aeson’s tongue darts out to test the corner of his lip where his pain receptors are telling him he’s injured, and then he aims a dangerous smile my way.

My stomach flops around like a beached fish, and I don’t know if I’m excited or worried about the renewed gleam in his eye.

“I don’t tap out…ever,” he informs me, rising to his full, towering height. Sand sticks to his sweaty chest and throat, and pours down the rest of his muscled body in tiny streams.

“Neither do I,” I snarl, and then I leap for him.

He catches me, but my hits are swift and packed with power. I’m out for fucking blood, done with playing, done with being underestimated, done with holding back. He aims body shots at my torso as I hammer blows to his head. I feel my bones break under the onslaught, but I know it’s not real. I know it’s just a mind fuck.

I’m feral and relentless in my attack, raining down blow after blow. Aeson slams us into the sand, fracturing my momentum and momentarily knocking the air out of me. But I’ve been held down and tortured by the Tainted for months. Pain and empty lungs aren’t going to override my bloodlust.

Aeson wraps a hand around my throat and bellows in my face, deep and long and menacing. I feel the dominance reverberate through me, the claim, the demand to submit. So I open my mouth and roar right back because fuck that and fuck him.

Out of nowhere, something visceral, something primal, weaves its way around me, sinking into my depths and latching on. It tugs and coaxes, and then…my dragon stirs.

My other side slinks just under my skin, stretching and keening for a way out. A buzz of power fills my limbs and hums in my head. Unmistakable desire floods my system and then Aeson’s lips are suddenly on mine. Shock and confusion fire through my synapses, but his mouth moves, demanding access, demanding everything, and abruptly I’m lost to a wave of lust and need that wholly consumes my entire being.

I open for him, meeting his tongue with my own, claiming dominion over his full lips and drinking him down. His hand tightens possessively around my throat, and I moan my approval into his mouth. His tongue strokes and taunts, his lips conquer and imbibe.

He rolls his hips into me, and I spread my legs, needing every inch of him closer. The gritty sand on our skin abrades and scrapes as we press against one another, demanding more. My dragon rides the tide of desire, stoking my hunger and heating my blood until it’s molten and searing.

A deep purr rumbles out of Aeson’s chest, and his kiss grows rougher, more dominant. His other hand grabs my ass, pulling me tighter against him as he grinds his hard length against me. I nip his bottom lip, my own need for dominance demanding I give as good as I’m getting.

He hisses, but the enthused purr that slips out of him has even more fervor pooling between my thighs.

Out of nowhere, a grating tone rings out and a monotone voice declares, “Simulation over.”

The sand underneath us disappears, and the hot sun above us is replaced by bright lights. My back is pressed against a cold, hard floor, and mystification has me pushing Aeson away and sitting up.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand, looking around and instantly remembering where we are and what we’re supposed to be doing.

Aeson’s Wing is positioned directly outside of the simulator, their expressions blank but their body language tense.

“Why the fuck did you pull us out?” Aeson snarls at Sondar, and indignation and chagrin heat my cheeks and drip down my throat.

Holy fuck, I was just grinding and kissing Aeson in front of all of them.

“I didn’t pull you out. Ever disqualified herself,” Sondar rushes to defend.

My head snaps in the direction of the guard. “What? No I didn’t. We were…” I pause, gesturing between me and Aeson.

My face suddenly feels like it’s on fire, and I try to scoot back from Aeson. He immediately drones his objection to any more space between us.

“And then it just stopped,” I finish.

Sondar suddenly looks as though he’d rather be anywhere but here, and his eyes flit around the room like he doesn’t know where to let them rest. “It says you breached a hard limit. You were disqualified when you…uh…bit the commander.”

I open my mouth to argue, and then it hits me. I nipped him. It was the sensual kind, but… I pinch the bridge of my nose and blow out a frustrated breath.

Fuck.

I push Aeson away and quickly get to my feet. He rises with me, looking just as frustrated and not nearly as embarrassed as I feel. He takes a step closer, but I skitter back, needing space.

Irritation and anger froth through my veins, but I don’t know if I’m pissed at Aeson or at myself.

What the fuck was I thinking?

“Look at me,” Aeson commands. It’s gentle, not forceful, and somehow that makes everything worse. “Ever?” he presses, but I shake my head.

My stare is fixed on my hands, and I search for any sign of my dragon, but just like every other time when I need it, it’s nowhere to be found. A hollow ache starts in my chest, and the driving need to get as far away from this place and Aeson Noctis is suddenly overwhelming.

I move toward the wall of the simulator, and thankfully, a door appears, letting me out. Aeson is tight on my heels, his presence silently demanding, but he doesn’t say anything as I pull the tactors off and then grab my clothes from the ground.

Stupid, stupid fucking move, Ever, I chastise internally as I pull my shirt back on.

Be attracted to him, fine. Kiss him, sure, why the fuck not. But don’t lose control. Don’t lose sight of what you’re here to do. And don’t lose on a technicality that you fucking imposed.

I wrap my corset around my torso and refasten the top clasp, which activates the others and pulls everything tight until it’s once again hugging every curve. I shove one leg into a boot and start lacing it up.

Frustration and disappointment curdle in my gut as I pull on my other boot. He warned me he played dirty; I should have listened. I should have known he’d try to beat me at my own game.

“Well.” I clear my throat, pulling my hair down and running my fingers through it until it’s somewhat tame. “Looks like you win, Commander.”

I finally look up at him and instantly regret it. He looks angry, wholly unrepentant, and devastatingly beautiful. “Not yet, not completely, but I will.”

With that, Aeson walks away.

I watch him go, wondering exactly what that’s supposed to mean, and worrying that I already know.