Free Pure by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page A

moments of downtime, but the words “I’m sorry” just wouldn’t move past my lips, and then Aiden was falling back into an attack stance.
    He flipped the blades over in his hands. “Again.”
    I attacked. Aiden brought his blades down on mine, the sound of metal clashing rung through the training room. He pushed me back, jabbing one blade at my midsection. I caught his arm with my forearm, knocking his aim off.
    “Good,” he said. “Keep moving. Never stay still.”
    I darted under his arm, staying out of his range while I studied his moves. There was always something that gave away the move, the technique. Sometimes it was just a fine tremor of the muscle or eye movement, but it was always there.
    Aiden jabbed, but it was a ploy. I saw it an instant before he dropped down, going for my legs with a low kick. I jumped out of way and then went for the kill shot. This game would have been over for an untrained half, being caught on the mats like that.
    But Aiden wasn’t untrained and he was incredibly fast. He jumped to his feet in one swift movement, simultaneously tucking both blades into one hand.
    I leapt, bringing the blades down. Aiden met me midflight, catching my arm. Within a second, he had my back pinned against him and two daggers pointed at my throat.
    He bent his head down, his breath dancing over my cheek. “What did you do wrong?”
    I felt his heart slamming against his chest. We were that close. “Um…?”
    “You saw me moving the blades to one hand as a vulnerable move. You should have gone for the hand that held the blades. One clean swipe and you would have disarmed me.”
    Mulling that over, I saw he was right. “Well, hell’s bells.”
    He leaned his head down further, the longer strands of his hair brushing my cheek. Neither of us moved. I let my eyes fall shut as his warmth surrounded me. I think I could’ve fallen asleep standing against him. “Now you know.” He released me. “Go again.”
    And I did. Again and again, we squared off. I blocked a series of his jabs and he blocked all of mine. After a few rounds, I was slick with cold sweat and exhausted. All I wanted to do was sit down.
    Aiden rushed me, and I pushed him back. With distance between us, I launched to the right, fingers spasming around the hilt of the blade. Kick. Use a kick, I ordered myself. Aiden dodged my jab, but not my kick. He lost his grip on one of the blades, and it clattered to the mat. Surprise and pride flickered across his face before he charged me with one blade. I blocked his attack, arms trembling. He dropped down, moving into position to sweep my legs out from underneath me. I saw it coming a mile away.
    I just didn’t—couldn’t will my legs to move fast enough.
    Everything slowed down, ensuring that the lameness of what was about to occur would be perfectly captured. I jerked back toward the edge of the mat. His long leg swept around, catching both of my legs. I lost my grip on the blades and fell backward. A second later my head cracked off the floor.
    I lay still, stunned and queasy.
    Aiden’s face popped into my vision, but his features were a bit muddled. “Alex, are you okay?”
    I blinked slowly. My head hurt so bad my teeth ached. “I… think so.”
    “Can you sit up?”
    Every part of me protested the movement, but I sat up. Aiden immediately checked the back of my head for damage with swift and gentle fingers. “That… was kind of lame of me.”
    “It’s not a big deal. You were doing really well. You even disarmed me.” He sat back; his hands cupped my cheeks and tilted my head back. He smiled. “I don’t think there’s any permanent damage.”
    I tried to smile, but failed. “I’m sorry.”
    A frown creased his brow. “Alex, don’t apologize. It happens. You can’t always be the fastest—”
    “I saw your move, Aiden. I had more than enough time to get out of the way.” I lowered my eyes. “I’m just so freaking tired.”
    Aiden scooted forward, his knees pressing