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“Never,” he snarls and turns, and rams me back into the wall again and again, until the breath is knocked out of me and I have no choice but to let go.

He spins and stands again, but I turn to avoid it and duck under his arm, moving away.

Panting, I wipe my cheek and the blood there with a smile at him as I wait for the next attack.

Sweat covers my brow, and my stomach twinges, but I ignore it as the cheers get louder. “Bring it,” I taunt.

He leaps at me, pushing off from the sand and flying through the air.

I roll to the side as he stomps down at me, again and again, until I can get to my feet.

Then we are back in motion, spinning and cutting, each of us trying to get a hit on the other.

We fight to the death, every blow meaning to injure and maim.

I block with my arm and hand, cutting it, and he does the same until bloody drops fall steadily to the sand.

I hear my men shouting for me, believing in me.

Grinning, I feint left and then bring my knee into his cock.

He groans but doesn’t double over like I thought he would, meaning when I stab, I cut a long line across his chest before dancing back with laughter.

He peers down at it with a small smirk. “Fuck, I forgot how beautifully you fight, soulmate, how fucking hard it gets me when I feel your blade slicing through my skin. When I win, I’m going to fuck you like I should have that night.

I’m going to make them hear your screams and know that I’m yours. ”

Sands below, my pussy clenches at that, imagining the way he is going to fuck me.

All sweaty and bloody from our fight, his hands mean…

his cock brutal. He will fuck me like we fight, fast and hard, and I can’t wait.

I ache to end this quickly, even as I hear the chants as they watch their queen and king fight.

He throws the knife to the ground and lifts his fist as he tries to circle me. I pretend to slump on my injured side slightly, and he falls for it, coming for me there. I know it’s going to hurt, and it does when he punches it, but it allows me time to tackle him.

He falls to the sand, and I perch on his chest, trying to drive my knife into his shoulder. His eyes gleam with desire as his hand comes up and blocks mine, his strength versus mine, and my hand barely moves downwards now.

I need more force.

Leaning all my weight onto his chest and the blade, I bring my hand down like a hammer as he tries to push the knife away and beat it down.

Each slam of my hand against it pushes it closer until it finally sinks into his shoulder.

With a groan, his hard cock pressed to me from the pain, he leans forward and headbutts me, sending me sprawling back with my knife left in his shoulder.

Rolling to my feet, I limp for a moment before I shake it out, ignoring the feeling of blood dripping down my stomach, my arms, and my face. He’s just as worse for wear, and it makes us both smile widely at each other.

Grabbing the knife, he pulls it from his shoulder and tosses it in the air, catching and retossing it without looking. “Tiring yet, Champion?”

“Never.” I wink.

“Good,” he snaps, and then he throws the knife. I duck, hearing the whistle of it as it sails over my head and embeds in the wall.

It’s on after that. A whirl of fighting bodies and limbs, punches, kicks, and headbutts. He throws me into the wall, and I knock him to the sand. We are both panting yet filled with adrenaline and happiness.

We are evenly matched, but my injury is taking its toll and I’m slowing. He knows it and he knows me, knows that I won’t ever give in or stop, and I know he will never let me win. It’s one of the reasons I love him.

So instead, he goes to end it now.

Showing me in a burst of energy just what is waiting for me after, he slams me to the ground with one arm and then he’s above me, choking me. I struggle and kick, lifting my hips to dislodge him as those icy eyes watch me with desire, even as he drains the life from me.

Eventually, I can’t fight anymore, and I stop struggling. To keep fighting…or to tap out? Tapping out means I get him faster, so I do that.

He lets go instantly, leaning down and kissing me before leaping to his feet and helping me to mine.

I grin at him as I stride across the sand.

I don’t care that I lost, I lost to a king.

A fucking Seeker, an assassin, and the love of my life.

But the crowd eats it up, loving how I fight, even until the end.

A queen that knows when to fight another day is a smart one, after all.

He won this round, but we have our whole lives for rematches.

Grabbing my knife, I hold it up to the crowd. They eat it up, and with a laugh, I head underground to where we were that night he found me. I slip into the dim room and wait, knowing he is coming for me.

My heart is slamming, and my pussy pulsing with its own heartbeat as I anticipate our fucking .

I was here years ago when he found me, promising to free me.

It broke my heart all those years again when he never came back for me, but I never have to worry about him not coming for me again. The door flies open, and he’s there, filling it, his chest heaving and bloody, his eyes wild, and he finds me in the dimly lit room.

Always finding me.

“Come to collect your prize, Seeker King?” I purr as I rub the blood across my lip like he did all those years ago.

“Yes,” he growls, prowling closer.

“Then what are you waiting for?”