Page 33 of The Tribrid Princess and the Taste of Chaos (The Rossi Legacies #7)

She scrunches up her face as she nimbly climbs up the beams, looking more animalistic than human, reminding me of Ahren and how he can latch onto the wall with ease, like a lizard.

I’m not sure she even realises how quickly she made it up, but she now makes her way onto the first beam, which sways at a steady speed.

“Ready!” she shouts down, the wind whipping the stray strands of her hair across her face as she looks down. I walk over to the first of the two large buckets of small gold balls and take a couple out before I turn and throw one up into the sky.

She watches the ball, and I see her frown as she calls on her powers. She’s struggling a little, and she raises her hand, but the ball is already on the ground.

“Keep going!” I shout up as I throw another ball, this time aiming it higher, giving her just a little more time. She turns as the beam sways and a gust of wind moves them faster.

She swings, and two shards of darkness rush towards the ball, both hitting it and destroying it.

“Yes!” I hear her shout.

I toss up another ball, and this time she knocks it out with more confidence.

Three balls later, I slam my hand into the post. Tremors rush through the beam, and they begin swaying a little faster.

She runs to catch the next ball, but I follow up with another one; she spins around, jumping onto the beam beside it and destroys both.

I keep going, and so does she. She’s moving faster and more confidently, and I wonder what the limit is before it gets to be too much for her.

I toss three, one after the other, just as the first drops of rain begin to fall.

I know it’s a lot worse up there, and I’m tempted to ask if she’s ok, but instead I keep pushing her.

She slips on the beam twice, catching herself in time as she moves from beam to beam, sometimes racing up the length of it before jumping or flipping over to the next, if it proved a better location to shoot down one of the balls.

It’s when it gets overwhelming for her that she loses control. I can see it beginning to happen now. She’s slowing down, and I can feel her power rippling through the air. She lets out a little whimper, and the beams shake as her power rises.

“Sienna, focus on my voice, only that! It doesn’t matter if you don’t get them all! Focus on the successes, not the failures,” I command.

“Ok… Keep going.”

The rain is falling harder, making it just that much difficult to see. I don’t argue, approving of her determination. If something happens, I’m here.

I toss up another two balls, reaching into the second bucket and follow up with two smaller ones from the new bucket.

She gasps, getting one as the other falls, then she turns, and I see her shadowy power snake downwards, wrapping around the ball and destroying it completely – inches from the ground.

Nice.

A gust of wind makes one of the beams collide with the other.

The only thing softening the sound is the leader brackets that wrap the edges of the metal beams. The knock-on effect sends tremors through all of them, and Sienna crouches as the beam sways dangerously.

I change tactics, throwing the balls further apart, causing her to have to turn and run across the beams to get a better shot.

She’s lithe, her agility impressive, and she moves like a dancer, fluid and graceful. I’m beginning to see the moments she struggles before I can sense them.

Her powers begin to rise again, the balls flying in all directions, making her struggle.

She sends a futile blast towards a falling ball, but instead hits one of the metal beams. She slips, her power rising as she loses her balance and falls backwards.

I run forward, pushing off the ground and catch her a few feet off it. Her arms lock around my shoulders in reflex as I land, one knee bent, my wet hair whipping in front of my eyes. She gasps, her eyes widening as her power dissipates.

“I failed…” The disappointment in her voice is subtle, but it’s loud in her eyes, and I can feel her pulling back into her shell.

“You didn’t. There’s a handful of balls on the floor, but in comparison to the bucket full you destroyed, that’s nothing.

It’s pouring down, so you did great. I think we can call it a night,” I say as I stand, pulling her up with me before allowing her feet to touch the ground, very aware of the tiny curve of her waist, the way her hips are perfectly rounded.

I look up into her eyes, and she’s watching me.

“Nice catch… thanks…” she says softly, her heart betraying her.

“I told you I’d catch you if you fall. I tend to keep my promises,” I reply quietly, looking down at her as droplets of water fall from my hair onto her cheeks.

“Always?” she asks softly.

“If need be.”

“And here I was thinking you hated me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That was your assumption?”

Her arms tighten around my neck as she turns slightly, and my breath catches when she presses her body against mine. Fuck.

The air between us pulls taut, and I look down at her. It’s not her demon form I’m looking at, but her – Sienna. Her grey eyes, the vulnerability she holds… she wants this.

“You didn’t make it hard not to believe that.” Her voice is breathless and soft as she points out the obvious.

“You fuck with my head, Sienna Rossi. You fuck with every single thing I think I know, and that confuses the heck out of me, and I don’t like being confused.” My voice is low and rougher than normal as I try to fight back the storm of emotions that consume me when I’m around her.

“Maybe the problem isn’t me. Maybe you need to figure out what you’re denying yourself.” She’s observing me intensely, reminding me of the girl who was always plastered on the boards at number one in her exams. Sharp and observant.

But this time she’s wrong. I know what I’m denying, why I’m denying it and what it would mean if I gave in…

Her fingers graze the back of my neck, her head tilted ever so slightly as she observes me. And for once, just fucking once, I don’t want to care about the consequences of my actions.

“Oh, Darling, I know what I’m denying myself,” I murmur huskily, reaching up with one hand and cupping the side of her face. Our eyes meet for a second before my gaze dips to her lips, perfect, plump and pouty. “You.”

Her heart hammers, and I lean down, pressing my lips to hers. An explosive volt of pleasure surges through me as our lips collide and everything else dies.

Thought, reason, restraint.

A soft gasp escapes her, and her body instantly presses into mine, as if she’s been waiting for this for as long as I have.

Her lips move against mine, with a confidence I didn’t even know she possessed.

Every brush of her lips, every scrape of her nails against my neck, the soft moan that slips from her lips, is fucking perfectly chaotic, and I’m willingly drowning in it.

Her emotions rise, and I welcome it. My own thoughts have long scattered, and all I can think of is how she tastes, how she feels against me. How fucking perfect this is.

It’s not a spark. It’s not even a fire.

It’s my fucking ruin.