an arrogant king in his place?
Baron avoided the strike at the last moment, faster than a fucking thought. I followed up with my backup plan, swinging both of my merciless fists toward his sinfully gorgeous face. He slipped out of my striking range with ease and grace. No matter how sneaky and fast my attacks were, I could never get him. It was as if he had a pair of blinking eyes on the back of his head and fast wheels under his feet.
Irritated to no end, I lunged at him from his blindside with a series of jabs, hard punches, and occasional kicks. He laughed as he twisted away from my blunt assaults in a blur of speed and blocked my every blow with a lazy attitude.
I’d trained for a decade with Dad and other martial arts professionals, yet I couldn’t land one blow on Baron. The one time I’d had a chance to knee his nuts was because he had underestimated me and thought I was just a peasant girl.
“Stop dodging, old man,” I growled. The Fae were born and bred warriors, their skills honed over centuries. Naturally, he’d be a superior fighter. But avoiding my every strike with a cocky smirk wasn’t teaching me anything useful.
Baron’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not old. In fact, I’m considered a young immortal.”
“I’m twenty-one, and you’re more than two centuries old. You’re practically ancient.”
Before he could retort, I dove back into the fight with my fists and feet flying. But the insults didn’t slow down his reflexes like I hoped. Instead, he acted like I was massaging him or scratching his itches when he occasionally let me land a blow. After several more rounds of failing to overcome him, my frustration and humiliation reached the breaking point.
“Just let me beat you up, asshole!”
“If you beg, my Evie, I’ll go really easy on you,” he said with a sunny, sexy grin.
Heat welled up in my belly, responding to his flirt. Rage also arose at his taunting words. I don’t beg. I would never beg.
The magic that had been ignoring me since the day we’d fought the demons stirred, then slithered up and peeked out. An unexpected joy swayed in me at the return of my magic.
For over twenty years, it’d been caged within me, and part of me had been locked away with it. My parents used ancient, potent spells to bind my magic and glamour my true identity. They’d done it to protect me, and I didn’t blame them. But my magic didn’t care about the circumstances.
It didn’t trust me now, even though I’d told it in our language that it wasn’t me who chained it to the bottom of an icy lake.
Despite the grudge it still held against me, my magic had blasted out of me when the seal on its cage was broken and it had saved me twice. But then, it wasn’t entirely altruistic. If I perished, it’d cease to exist as well.
“Your magic is volatile,” Rowan had told me. “It’s different from any previous Dawn Queen’s powers. I’ll do more research, but you’ll need to master it before your Turning, Evie, or you won’t like the results.”
That didn’t boost my confidence, but the Fae kings weren’t known for pep talks.
Right now, I had no idea why my magic was suddenly showing interest, rising from its slumber, and utterly forgetting its grudge against me. Maybe Baron’s taunting provoked it?
Before I had time to figure it out, threads of silky vines sprouted from the ground around me and dashed toward Baron like a lover. The Summer King laughed in glee.
I watched in silent shock as the tendrils mounted his legs in a loving embrace, green leaves licking his cheeks like a puppy, and a twirl of stems danced around him in a sultry invitation.
“I didn’t do that,” I blurted out. “The vines are acting on their own. I have no idea what they’re doing. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
“What wrong idea, Evie?” Baron asked, a mischievous light coiling in his amber eyes, as he allowed the stems of the vines to veer him toward me, twirling in dance.
The vines didn’t let me off the hook either. They suddenly dragged me toward the Summer King, surprising me with their strength and determination. While we were caught in their net, Baron wrapped his arm around me and crushed me against his hard chest.
I threw up my palms, trying to shove him away. I needed to show him that I had more backbone