Free Unearthed by Lauren Stewart

heavily.
    “You know I could kill you, right? That this is just for fun?”
    She rocked her weight back and forth, ready for him. Not that she’d ever truly be ready for him.
    “You kick me in the nuts one more time, and I won’t be interested in playing with you anymore. I’ll turn up my heat just enough to watch you burn. Got it?”
    Her nod was curt, disrespectful but honest. She stayed back from him, not running away but keeping her distance, exactly what a smaller, faster fighter should do. The handle of the salt knife was thicker than she was used to. He could tell by how often she adjusted her grip. The only weapon she had against him, puny as it was, gave her a misplaced confidence. Therefore, it needed to be removed from her person.
    Davyn might be big, but he wasn’t slow. He moved towards her, figuring she’d back up from the three hundred-pound demon coming directly at her. Nope. She dropped to her knees and spun out of his path, almost fast enough. He swung his arm down, hitting her shoulder. The knife popped out of her grip and shot across the alley, landing with a plop into a puddle.
    “Aww, did I break your toy?” he asked.
    They both glanced at it, then each other. Simultaneously they moved, except she didn’t go for the knife. She went for him.
    What the fuck? On his way to the ground, he had his very first bout with shock. The little woman had grabbed both of his legs and squeezed, using his momentum and bulk against him. He landed face-first on the cement, so unprepared for the fall that he hadn’t even put out his hands.
    The knife laid three feet away. The hunter’s boot caught him under his chest and flipped him over. He grunted as she made a move, something more like what you’d see in a fake wrestling match than in an actual fight. She straddled him, her hands on his arms, her feet curled behind her holding his thighs to the ground.
    He’d been more intimidated by kittens. Even using all her weight, she was never going to keep him down. But he gave her props because she shouldn’t have been able to get him on his back at all.
    Millennia of torture, tests, ordeals—physical and mental—and he’s outwitted by a girl with a stellar body and a crusty knife. Not his proudest moment. Okay, fun was over. If she had a moment, it was because he gave it to her.
    “You can’t win this, puppet.”
    “I don’t have to win. All I have to do is not lose.”
    He shrugged one shoulder, throwing her off balance enough to reach out and grab the knife. He hissed when his fingers met the blade, the salt burning like acid. She yelled and threw herself towards the weapon, but he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from reaching it. He flipped it around in his hand so he held the handle and brought the blade to her throat.
    “In case you missed it, this is you losing.”
    She jerked away and rolled. He grabbed her by the only piece of clothing he could—her bra. When it snapped off, she stopped, arms curled in to cover her chest and eyes opened wide in shock.
    “Seriously?” He laughed. “We’re trying to kill each other. I could’ve grabbed you by the throat and snapped it just as easily, but this is what freaks you out? Me seeing your…?” Oh shit, yeah, those were nice.
    Nope. First thing’s first. With her hands and mind occupied, she didn’t even try to stop him when he wrapped a leg around her and used it to flip both of them over. As soon as he was on top of her, the blade was at her throat again. Now, what was that second thing?
    Right. When his eyes lowered from her eyes to her mouth, she inhaled sharply. Her shield slipped for just a second, long enough to let him know exactly what she wanted. Same thing he did.
    “Oh, puppet, don’t tempt me.” He felt his cock harden, his temperature go up a few notches. Even though she must have felt both changes, she didn’t flinch, her self-destructive desire only increasing. His gaze roamed lazily from her eyes and lips to where