Page 77 of The Death King

Talon’s eyes had been reserved for me the moment he walked into the room. “This armor is much lighter than mine but will still give you great protection. It’s not as strong as mine, but at least you’ll be able to move in it more freely.” He gestured to the man carrying the sword. “And this—” He took it from the man and extended it to me. “It’s a two-handed sword but the weight is distributed more in the hilt than the blade, so it’ll be easier for you to handle. Even when you’re fused with a dragon and stronger, your blade will still strike quicker than your enemy’s and keep you alive.”

I stared at it for a second before I took it from him. The second I felt it, I appreciated how much lighter it was than the sword I had practiced with. It was formidable but manageable. I pulled the hilt from the scabbard and revealed the image of a dragon engraved in the metal. “It’s beautiful.” I’d never been granted my own sword. My father never thought to teach me.

Talon gave a nod in appreciation. “Once you’re dressed, we’ll train.”

It felt like a hopeless endeavor, training with a man who was far more accomplished than I’d ever be.

The two men left, but he remained, looking at the fire as the flames reflected off his armor. He’d looked kingly when he’d sat in that armchair naked just the other night and my thighs spanned his hips. But he looked even more majestic now, the tallest man in the room, the strongest, and by far, the most handsome. Wisdom and despair were packed in his dark gaze, like he’d lived many lifetimes rather than just one—and maybe he had.

I moved to the bed and started to dress, figuring out how to secure the pieces together after wearing that previous armor set. It was much lighter than the bulky one I’d worn before, but it was still uncomfortable to wear. The sword fit at my hip perfectly. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my long hair pulled back in a simple bun, I looked like a whole new person. When I was a princess, I wore beautiful gowns and jewelry, had a softness in my eyes that resembled spring. But when I studied my gaze now, I saw a new woman, one marred by harrowing experiences and savagery. But she didn’t look defeated…just bowed. When I felt his stare, I turned back to him.

His eyes slowly combed over me, but he didn’t issue a compliment. “Let’s go.”

We headed to the training room where he had taken me before, and the second we were in the large room with the high ceiling, he unsheathed his blade and got into his stance. “The more you’re struck, the more damage your armor takes, and the more vulnerable you become. It’s a direct path to death. If your opponent is stronger than you, then your priority is to dodge their attacks until you secure a substantial opening. It takes more energy to charge than divert, so he’ll tire eventually.”

“So you want me to dodge you?”

“You didn’t before, and look what happened.”

I was covered in bruises—and he felt no remorse.

“I’ll go easy on you this time.”

“I’m good.”

He stared at me for several seconds before a smirk moved on to his mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I said, what?”

His smirk only grew. “You’re a different woman in the bedroom.”

Because I wanted it soft and easy. Because I loved the way he made me feel safe when I was vulnerable. Because I loved the way he erased pain with pleasure. But I would never tell him any of that. “Are we doing this or not?”

“Alright.” He spun his blade around his wrist then came at me, whipping the blade in one direction and then cutting down in the next direction. He’d done this before, slicing his blade across the armor that protected my stomach.

This time, I anticipated it and danced out of the way.

His smirk disappeared, and his eyes wore a look of pride. “You’re learning?—”

I took the opening and struck with my blade, hitting him on the arm.

He immediately stepped back and checked his arm, looking for a scratch on his beautiful armor. When he looked up again, he wasn’t angry. In fact, that smile was back. “Attagirl.” He started to circle me, confidence in his eyes and arrogance in his stance. “I’ve never been with a woman who looks at me the way you do.”

“And how do I look at you?”

“Right now? Like you absolutely despise me.” He stopped his movements and prepared to barrel down on me. “But at night, like you can’t live without me.” He rushed me, swinging his blade and meeting my block before he spun it again and sliced me down the arm where my armor protected me. He slammed his elbow onto my arm that held the sword so the blade was knocked from my hand.

I growled before I gave him a hard shove, disappointed that I had been overpowered so easily.

“You’re not powerless without your sword. Remember that.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“Punch me in the face. It’ll buy you a second to grab your sword.”