want to share her name. “No matter. I only wanted a name to go with your face, one to remember you by when you’re dead.”
She ducked beneath the blow he aimed at her jaw, and he grinned as anger flared hot in her eyes, turning them molten. She didn’t like him belittling her, making out as if this fight was a done deal and she was as good as dead. She had pride. He filed that away and then reminded himself that he was going to kill her. He didn’t need to remember these small things about her.
She was no match for him.
She launched at him on a feral bellow, threw her weight at his chest and knocked him off balance. His back hit a wall and her fist came at his face. He barely had time to dodge it, relished her pained grunt as her knuckles struck the stone beside his ear rather than his cheek, together with something else.
How fast she was.
How vicious.
It spoke to him on a deep, dark level. One where he wasn’t quite master. One where the tainted part of him lurked. That darkness slowly grew with each swift jab she hurled at him, each measured blow she managed to land, and when she blocked a punch of his and snagged his wrist, had the audacity to grapple with him and revealed something else about her, he was done for.
She matched his strength.
She matched him so well that he found himself drawing out the fight, leaving himself open at times to see what she would do, cataloguing everything about her. She leaped backwards when he gave her a shot at his torso, a blow most would have taken to weaken him, revealing that beneath her fierce exterior, she had some honour.
He teleported, curious to see what she would do.
She shocked him by being ready for him before he had even reappeared, by throwing a hard left hook that connected with his cheek the moment he manifested. A lucky shot? Or could she track him through a teleport?
What was she?
Whatever she was, he had never met a female like her. He had never come across one who matched him as she did, who seemed to be aware of him at all times and could keep up with him. If she hadn’t already been a member of a guild, he might have ended things right there and then and convinced her to join his one.
Although, he wasn’t about to break his no-females rule. Fuery was still recovering from centuries of believing he had killed his fated one, something that had tormented him and driven him deep into the darkness. Being around females had been a trigger for his friend, and continued to be one even now if the darkness inside him was pushing for freedom, attempting to steal control of him and manipulating his memories, making him believe Shaia was a ghost of the female he had killed.
He landed a hard blow of his own, dropping on his left side to plough his fist into her stomach and rip a grunt from her. She was quick to break away from him, to press her hand to her side and scowl at him as she caught her breath.
Her flame-red hair stuck to her damp skin as she came at him again, her eyes flashing dangerously against their dark backdrop, her lips flattened in a mulish line as she readied her fists.
Hartt blocked both of her blows, captured her wrists and pulled her towards him.
Her scent of sandalwood and vanilla hit him hard as she breathed, as her golden eyes collided with his, and he forgot what he had intended to do, just stared into her eyes and lost himself in them.
Gods, she was beautiful.
Fascinating.
Got his blood pumping hard and hot, rousing fire in his veins that spread to heat every inch of him.
Harden every inch of him.
“If I best you, will you give up your name?” he whispered.
He could easily win this fight if he used his connection to everything he owned to call a weapon to him, but it didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem right. If he was going to win this, he would do it on a level playing field.
She was a little breathless as she muttered, “Go to hell.”
“Already there,” he countered, but that feeling he had been thrown into some strange torturous hell was starting to look more and more like a glimpse of heaven as she twisted free of his grip and