I make quick work getting my hands prepped. Tapping the bag once, I send it swinging. The pull of the movements brings me under. Before long, I’m dragged into a sequence.
The sweat pours down my back, and I feel incredible. The boost of energy from beating this bag with my strength and no magic grounds me. Reminds me where I’m from and how much I don’t belong in this world. I’m made to protect the humans.
“Want to spar?” a male voice asks.
I grab onto the bag to stop it from swinging before turning to the guy behind me. He’s tall, but most people are taller than me. His body is lean and strong, like an athlete or a dancer.
“No magic. I want to work my muscles.”
He nods, motioning me to the mat. I tear off the gloves and wraps as I go, leaving them on the edge of the mat. I’ll clean up after.
A small circle of guys has gathered to watch our match. They assume the short witch can’t handle a big, powerful man without her magic. The thought makes me smile.
We circle each other. My hands hang loosely at my side as I study the way he moves. His left foot drags on the mat when he steps with his right—maybe an old injury?
He’s waiting for me to come to him. Normally I’d counter his wait, but I need to punch someone. I rush him in a blur of power.
He tries to connect to my face, but I slide underneath his arms, popping up behind him. I kick out, and his left leg crumbles. Definitely an old injury.
He hits the mat with a smack, but I get up and circle him again, giving him a chance to recover.
He growls and stands. Oops, someone is pissed. He doesn’t wait for me this time. He attacks. His movements are graceful and strong. I block a few punches, but I take one to the shoulder and another to the chin.
Spitting out blood on the floor, I make a come-here gesture. He stalks toward me, but I block his cross, stepping into his space.
I launch my leg off his bent thigh, then wrap myself around his neck. My thighs squeeze his throat. He grabs at my thighs, trying to get me off, but I cling on.
He thrashes about, but I’m too strong. “Yield,” I grit out, holding on tighter.
He shakes his head, and I let out a sigh. One of those, then. When I rock us back and forth, his steps falter, bringing us down to the mat. I flip around at the last minute and land on my back, my legs never letting go but shifting with the fall.
He’s now trapped on the mat with me snaked around his neck. Reaching up, I capture one of his hands, which is blindly trying to hit me. I stretch back, taking his arm with me. He’s now in an impossible situation.
“Yield, Sean. She has you,” one of the other soldiers says, but Sean isn’t listening.
He’s trying to use his weight to get me off, but nothing can flip me now. It’s getting annoying that he’s not passing out. When I apply a little extra strength, his face turns purple. His weight sinks into itself, and I release him.
He coughs and leans to his side, glaring up at me through tearstained eyes.
After I bow, I salute him before walking off the mat and picking up my gloves and wraps. I return the gloves to the shelf and throw out the wraps.
“Hey, your Anima, right?” the guy who told Sean to yield says.
“Yeah, you are?”
“Leo. It’s nice to meet you. You’re not quite what we all expected.”
“That’s the problem, Leo. No one expects me to beat them, and when I do, they all look like your friend Sean.” I gesture to my opponent. He’s getting up, cursing his friends and doing his best to look menacing even if his skin is still bright red.
“He’s cocky and a dick, but he’s a good soldier. Excellent marksman. He’s got the god-complex, though.”
I laugh at that because I can totally see Sean trying to be hot shit. He’s the guy Shelley would stay far away from, no matter how pretty he is.
“It explains a lot. How much did he lose?”
“About a hundred mortal dollars.” He flashes me a grin. If I wasn’t already mated to Torque, I might be tempted to show Leo what else these legs can do.
“What put that smile on your face?” I felt my mate before I laid eyes on him, but it was fun to see his jealousy.
“Leo was telling me how much money he bet on his friend losing.”
He steps into my space and puts a hand on my waist, staking his claim. Leo takes a step back, looking crushed.
“I would have made that bet, too.” Torque kisses the top of my before leading me over to my sword.
“Nice to meet you, Leo.” I wave as we walk away.
Torque hands me Hubris, and I belt it on before I lean down and slip my shoes on.
“What were you doing?” He takes my hand as we walk out into the night. It’s later than I thought. I wonder how many hours I was in there.
“Letting off some steam. I have a problem with people trying to tell me what to do. It’s not something I enjoy.”
He makes a committal sound and drags me over to the woods that are behind the garden. He hands me two blades, similar to those I lost in the woods when Scur took me.
“What are these for?”
“A present. I want you to be armed as much as possible when you go into the Deathlands. As much as you are a strong independent tri-bred, I want to make sure you’re protected. That I can’t be there is eating at me.”
I take the blades, feeling their weight. They’re finely crafted. Honed to perfection, both are of superior quality. The hilts are wrapped in leather with silver
