Page 47 of Scars of His Wrath

"Strike me on one of my vital points," he snarled.

Naya eyed him. After what happened last time she absolutely didn’t want to fight him. But he probably wouldn’t let her refuse this challenge and they won’t be having sex on these rooftop grounds. "All right." She positioned her feet wide and raised her bar. "But I must tell you, I am at a disadvantage in this clothing. If you really want me to fight the way my father intended, I can’t be wearing skirts and dresses."

Akoro charged at her, and they began to fight.

They fought just as wildly as the last time, but it felt like there was more at stake this time. Every corded muscle in Akoro's body tensed with aggression and seemed fueled by the motivation to disprove what she’d said.

It seeped out into his scent, heavy, and somewhat acrid—aggression blended with his usual Alpha dominance and tinged with a hint of something heady, but Naya tried not to suck it into her lungs as she moved.

The harsh scent of Alpha aggression wasn't uncommon. She’d sparred with many Alphas who wanted to prove themselves against the emperor's celebrated daughter. She didn't let those emotions or their accompanying odors get in the way of her focus. But Akoro’s scent called to every quivering nerve that had been awakened by him. She wanted to smother herself with his tantalizing fragrance.

Her foot slipped and she fell. Curling herself in, she rolled and got up, blocking a strike Akoro had lunged forward to make, the clatter of their wooden sticks cracking across the grounds.

She blinked up at him and then darted away. Arousal. That delicious thick arousal was in his scent again. She didn't have time to think about it because he charged at her again. Naya fought back but she was distracted. Her reactions were too slow, her mind scattered. She needed to focus.

Breathing deeply, she forced Akoro into her favorite sequence, sinking into the focus that allowed her to be wild, vicious, and precise with her skill. Her mind returned to the cool numbness that she used in her morning sequences, and immediately her precision improved. She drove Akoro back with a series of furiously quick strikes, and finally the end of her rod drove into his knee.

He roared as she spun away, and his wooden rod brushed along her torso. She darted back and slammed her rod down on the nerve in the middle of his forearm. His hand spasmed and he dropped his stick.

Naya spun away and stopped. They stared at each other, both panting.

Grasps and exclaims came from across the roof but she barely heard them.

Akoro's eyes were wild. "If that had been a blade, I would have cut you," he bellowed, pointing to his rod.

"Yes, but it wouldn’t be fatal," Naya said, gasping for breath. She pointed to the ground with her rod. “Whereas if mine had been real, you’d be bleeding out right here, and another warrior would come along to slit your throat.”

Akoro’s fists clenched, his whole body stiff his breath heavy.

Only then did Naya allow herself a small smile, but it disappeared when she realized they’d had an audience. His council had arrived at some point.

Nrommo stormed over and took the wooden rod from Naya. "My king," he said, clearly struggling to keep his voice even. "This was unwise."

Akoro ignored him, stepping toward Naya, that Alpha pride and curiosity deepening in his dark eyes.

Naya glared up at him, amusement in hers. She’d beaten him twice now—knocked him on his ass and had almost managed to kill him, and now disarmed him in front of his precious council. Who isn’t keeping up to their people’s standards now? She didn't back away as he came close, but stared up at him, defiance brightening her veins.

Akoro looked at Nrommo. “Why are you all here?” he said irritably. “I thought I dismissed you.”

Nrommo lifted his hands, as though in disbelief. “It’s lur ennen.”

Akoro grunted. Turning back to Naya he said, “This afternoon you will tell us all about you and your status. Everything. You may have lur ennen to think about all relevant information.”

“Have… what?”

He gestured to Prillu and made his way to the door.

All of the council regarded Naya curiously as they climbed the stairs back up to the battle room. All except the healer, who grinned at her as though he was delighted about what she’d done. She couldn't help but give him a small smile in response.

Prillu gestured to follow her down a different corridor from the rest of the group, and Naya followed. The sundial in the corridor read that quite a few hours had passed, so maybe this was their lunch time.

“Are you going to escort me to and from the battle room every day?" Naya asked as they arrived at her bedroom.

Prillu had been quiet on the way, and Naya could feel tension rolling off her.

Instead of answering, she said, "You will eat all your meals in your room.” She gestured to the door. "Meiro will bring them to you. You will eat alone. Lur ennen lasts two hours during the hottest part of the day. Meiro will bring you as much liquid as you require to rehydrate, whether it be water or tmae. No alcohol will be provided.” She spoke stiffly and formally, her back straight. “Traditionally, we eat first and then relax, sometimes nap. Parchment and ink can be provided if you wish to jot things down in preparation for returning to the zmola."

Naya stepped inside her room and turned to face her, both of either side of the doorway. "Thank you," she said carefully. "You seem upset with me."