He tilted his head. “Because I have way more in-field experience than you do.”
“That’s true.” I uncrossed my arms.
Zayne straightened his head, features marked with confusion as if he’d expected more of an argument.
I smiled.
And then I made my move. Shooting forward, I slid down like I was coming in to home base, planting my palms on the mat as I twisted and kicked out one leg. I swept his legs from underneath him, and he went down like a tree, landing on his side with a grunt and then rolling onto his back. Pushing up, I spun and dropped my knees on either side of his hips just as he started to sit up. I shoved my hands onto his shoulders, straddling his stomach as I held him down, tapping into my strength—and the strength borrowed from him. I could feel the strain on my muscles, but he wasn’t moving.
I took a second to soak in his look of surprise and my feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure in having bested him. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs to practice defensive techniques.”
Zayne’s eyes drifted halfway shut. “Touché.”
“Is that all you have to say?” I asked, feeling his chest rise.
One side of his lips quirked up. “What did you and Misha do during training?”
“We fought.”
His brows lifted. “That’s it?”
I nodded. “We fought, and we didn’t hold back.” I shifted my hands to his chest, ignoring how warm it felt under the thin shirt. “Well, maybe Misha did hold back a little, but we fought each other and then I practiced with daggers.”
“The dagger thing is going to be hard to practice in here,” he commented, and I nodded. “But I think we could do that at the compound. There’s a lot of land and a lot of trees to stab.”
“I’m not sure I like stabbing trees, but that will work.”
“What about your eyes? The sunlight won’t be a problem?”
I shrugged. “The sunlight could be an issue. So could a too-cloudy day, but it’s not like I’ll always have the perfect ambient lighting when fighting, so it’s probably smarter to do it under uncomfortable circumstances.”
“Good point.” Zayne looked rather comfy under me, like he was taking a break.
“Are you going to be able to really fight me? Not take it easy?” I asked. “Because I don’t need you to pull punches or kicks.”
“Why do you think I can’t do that?”
“Well, maybe because you wanted to start with the basics? And you’re a nice guy. The last time we fought, you didn’t really come at me. Not as hard as you could’ve.”
“Which is why you were able to get the best of me?”
My lips thinned. “Whatever. I need to know if you can do this instead of just lying there, like you’re doing right now, because like I said, you’re a nice guy.”
That half grin grew. “Maybe I’m just lying here because I’m enjoying myself.”
I blinked. “What—”
Zayne’s hands landed on my hips, and a burst of shock left me unbalanced. A heartbeat later, I was on my back and Zayne was over me, his knees digging into the mats on either side of my hips. I started to sit up, but he caught my wrists and pinned them to the mat.
My heart jumped and my pulse kicked up as he leaned down then stopped when his mouth was within a few inches of mine. The weight of his hands on my wrists and the warmth of his body had my imagination leaping happily into the gutter.
“I don’t like the idea of causing you pain, and that’s going to happen when we train. It’s inevitable.” A strand of hair came loose from his ponytail and fell across his cheek. My fingers itched to tuck it back. Thankfully I couldn’t move my hands. “But I also know that pulling back isn’t going to help you. It’s not going to help me. I know what I need to do as your Protector.”
As your Protector.
For some reason, those words repeated over and over until he said, “And I was telling the truth. I was lying there because I was enjoying myself, not because I’m a nice guy.”
My lips parted as a heady burst of exhilaration swept through me, banging on that file cabinet drawer labeled ZAYNE. I didn’t know how to respond, or even if I should, because it was probably best that I didn’t.
Zayne let go of my wrists and rocked back onto his feet. He extended his hand toward