Page 64

KICK HIM WHERE IT COUNTS?(FOREPLAY, APPARENTLY)

ARABELLA

I woke before dawn with a restlessness that wouldn’t settle. The space beside me was empty, the sheets cold. Kazimir hadn’t returned to our chambers last night.

After dressing in my training leathers, I made my way through the citadel’s quiet corridors.

When I reached the training chamber, he stood at the far end, shirtless, shadow blades in both hands.

Rippling arcs of ebony coiled across his forearms, writhing with quiet menace.

He made creating solid shadow weapons look infuriatingly easy.

He glanced over when I entered, our gazes locking for a fraction of a second. A glint of hunger flared in his eyes, making my pulse tick faster.

“You’re early,” I said.

He gave a faint huff of laughter. “I needed a distraction that wasn’t made of ink and parchment.”

“Did you work all night?” I crossed my arms. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

His jaw tightened, though the circles under his eyes confirmed it. “You needed rest.”

“And you didn’t?”

His shadow blades dissolved as he rolled his shoulders. “I’m used to going without.”

Kazimir wasn’t exactly telling the truth. The intensity in his gaze made it clear why he’d avoided our bed. He didn’t trust himself to lie beside me without doing something that might damage the Heirloom further.

“Ready to begin?” he asked, changing the subject.

I nodded, moving to the center of the room. We’d been working on shadow weapons for days. I could form them well enough, but wielding them against Kazimir was another matter entirely. He moved like water, anticipating my attacks before I even committed to them.

I exhaled, conjuring the swirling ribbons of shadow that condensed around my fist. Slowly, they merged and elongated into a curved blade.

“We’re working on reflexes today,” he said, drawing me into the protective circle. “Your hesitation will kill you in a real fight. So don’t hesitate, Arabella.”

He lunged.

Even half expecting it, I barely managed to parry in time.

The clang of ephemeral blades rang out sharper than steel.

The next series of blows came fast, the swirl and slash of shadow shaping the air in electric arcs.

I blocked him, dancing to the side, aiming quick retaliations.

He brushed them off with a smug twist of his wrist.

An exasperated growl slipped from my throat. “Are you toying with me?”

He paused, the tip of his conjured blade quivering an inch from my collarbone. “Try harder,” he said calmly. “I can practically feel you pulling your strikes.”

“I’d prefer not to accidentally kill my husband.”

“Kill me?” A laugh rumbled out of him. “Then do it. If you can.”

He was so damn cocksure it made me want to flatten him right there. I formed another blade, but this time, I also called on my truth-sense. I couldn’t read minds, but I could feel the intent behind actions, the subtle shifts that preceded a person’s next move.

As Kazimir circled me, I felt the slight change in his weight, the fractional narrowing of his eyes that meant he was about to strike from the left.

I formed a small ball of light in my palm and flung it at his face, momentarily blinding him while I ducked under his guard and landed a solid punch to his ribs.

He grunted, more in surprise than pain, and caught my wrist before I could pull back.

“Clever.” The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Keep trying.”

“You’re not angry I tried a cheap trick?”

“In a real fight, all advantages are fair. I’d be more concerned if you didn’t start to cheat.” He lifted his hand, beckoning me forward with a slow, taunting motion. “Is that the best you can do, then?”

I snarled in frustration and rushed him again, aiming low this time. We collided, arms locking. My heart thundered as his body pressed into mine, sweat mixing with the tang of ozone from our magic. The sheer closeness made every nerve hum.

When I twisted away, he automatically caught me around the waist, a reflex to keep me from falling. “Stop that!”

He raised both eyebrows. “You want me to let you smash your face into the floor?”

I wriggled free and reset my stance. “It’s humiliating to be coddled.”

“If this feels like coddling—” His voice dipped. “I’ve been doing it wrong.” He smirked, gaze raking over me. “Your stance is off. Widen your feet—like that, yes. Better.”

I huffed and stepped forward to re-align myself, catching a glimpse of the sweat shining on his chest.

“What?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” I snapped. “Focus on your own stance, oh mighty warlord.”

We launched at each other again, fists and conjured shadows clashing. He easily batted away my illusions, forcing me into a more direct style of grappling. My arms locked around his shoulders, and I tried tripping him. He responded by hooking my leg inside his own, nearly sending me sideways.

“Stop pulling back,” he growled, breath hot against my ear as he tugged us chest-to-chest. “You want to get stronger? Stop fighting like a timid girl. Fight like—like you did when I kidnapped you.”

That caught me off-guard. “I?—”

“Don’t think.” His voice dropped low, almost intimate. “Fight.”

An electric pulse ran through me. With a wild twist, I wrenched free and flung myself sideways. Kazimir came after me, seeing the vulnerability left by my hasty pivot. I pivoted again in a last-second attempt to dodge, but the training room floor had a slick patch of sweat that made me slip.

Shit.

I landed hard, but scrambled to my feet when I saw him advance.

He paused. “Still glad I let you fall?”

I rolled my shoulder and winced at the twinge of pain. My body would have plenty of new bruises after today. “You’re being an even bigger jerk than usual.”

He flashed me a grin. “I wonder why. Could it be that I’m trying to avoid climbing on top of you and doing something really stupid?”

I formed a curved blade. “Again.”

My next blow was fueled by a confusing swirl of arousal spiked by his words. We parried for another few minutes, shadows clashing, boots scraping. Sweat slid down my spine. My entire body thrummed with exhilaration. I needed something else to focus on, or this sparring session would end very badly.

“So, Perris,” I started. If anything would cool me down, that subject would. I lunged, and Kazimir parried. “He shouldn’t have made it so far from Solandris in that condition.”

Kazimir lunged again, and I had to deflect. I aimed a slash at his midsection. He danced away.

Finally, having proven I was out of breath, he slowed enough to talk. “Go on.”

“What if,” I said, breathing hard, “he wasn’t poisoned in Solandris, but in Arvoryn? Then they sent him to your outpost as a show of cooperation?”

Kazimir paused, considering. “Morana, you mean.”

“Who else?” I pressed. “She had the means and opportunity.”

“Possible. Morana does keep a nice stock of lethal goodies. But how would she know he had information? Why not keep his visit a secret and use his information for herself?”

“So maybe she invited him,” I said, thinking aloud. “Then poisoned him, all on Auremar’s orders.”

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re trying very hard to pin this on Morana.”

“She’s a spider. She lures everything into her web,” I retorted, my muscles burning as we circled each other. “You, for instance. She fucked you, didn’t she? So maybe she thought another gullible courtier would be easy to manipulate, too.”

Surprised fury swept across Kazimir’s features, but it made him pause for half a second. “I—” he managed.

And in that moment of vulnerability, I kicked him hard in the balls.

He made a strangled sound and dropped. Hard.

For a moment, I feared I’d gone too far.

Attacking the Dark Lord’s manhood might be crossing a line, even in training.

My breath sawed in and out of my lungs while Kazimir glared up at me from the floor, clearly furious with himself for giving me that opening.

A bolt of savage satisfaction shot through me. “You told me to stop holding back,” I said. “Consider that mission accomplished.”

“I can’t believe I let that land,” he rasped.

“Believe it.” Then I stepped closer, planting my feet on either side of his legs and pointing my shadow dagger at him. “I could kill you right now, if I wanted.”

He squinted up at me, pain and grudging respect warring in his expression. “Are you thinking about it?”

“If you died, I’d have no one left who could handle the Heirloom.” I sighed dramatically, letting the shadows around my fingertips fade. “So... no. I guess I’d rather keep you alive.”

He let out a faint huff that might have been a laugh. “I can think of nicer ways to express your fondness, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Kazimir shifted like he might rise. Then, with a sudden upsurge of motion, he swung a leg around, knocking one foot out from under me. I yelped. My knees buckled, and I crashed to the floor, my back painfully slamming the stone. The air whooshed from my lungs.

A second later, he pinned me with his weight. One of his hands grabbed my wrist, easily prying away the new shadow blade I’d tried to conjure. His free arm pressed down against my shoulder, trapping me. He was breathing hard, lips parted, eyes wild.

A slow grin spread across his face, transforming it from merely handsome to devastating. “Never assume your opponent is defeated until they’re actually dead.”

My mouth went dry. “So what’s next? Planning to silence me for good?”

“That would be an awful waste of that witty mouth.” His voice was low.

The adrenaline in my veins mutated swiftly into a powerful surge of arousal. If I lifted my head a fraction, we’d be kissing. My thighs parted just enough that his hips settled between them, and I felt his unmistakable erection pressing through his trousers.

“If we never get to have sex again,” I said, only half-joking, “maybe we’ll just need to keep wrestling each other instead.”