had she moved?
No matter, he was on the defensive, dodging several
swipes. The last nicked the unprotected skin of his throat. He took solid form
and grabbed the goddess’ wrist as she arched her sword. He locked his knees to
prevent them from buckling under the force of her blow. Damn, she was fast. He kicked and slammed his foot into her hip. She staggered back.
He lunged forward in an attempt to disarm her. She
was faster and stronger than any enemy he had fought before. The sharp blade
grazed his flank and he was met by red eyes and fangs.
Not Creation.
Startled, he hesitated.
She planted her fist with expert precision into
his flank. With both hands restraining her sword, he could not block the blows.
He rammed his knee up into her abdomen. Unfazed, she shifted his weight, knocking
him off balance. His shoulders slammed into the hard sand.
She pounced, jabbed her knees on either side of
his ribcage and squeezed. He was unceremoniously deflowered in two swift moves.
Bomani stilled at the press of her curved blade
into the juncture of his neck and collarbone.
“You hurt my horse,” she hissed and ripped back his
hood. He caught the sharp intake of breath. She blinked and the redness receded
to reveal icy green eyes.
Humiliated, his fight drained from his limbs. His
last vision would be of a beautiful goddess straddled across his waist.
Not a bad death.
Warm fingers grazed his neck and ripped back the
wool material of his shirt. Her fingers descended down his sternum and traced
one of the many scarification tattoos to the legion brand burned into his left
chest. The pressure of the blade’s tip lessened at his neck.
A tremor set to her fingertips as she tracked the
brand’s outline. Heat shot along the lines of his raised scars and circuited
his entire body. Her eyes snapped back to his and her face paled. She leapt
back and landed in the soft sand.
She spared him?
He jerked to his feet and stripped away his now
ruined shirt. There was no point in hiding his markings.
Her widened eyes tracked the expanse of his
tattoos running from neck to waistline and wrists and those were the ones she
could see. When her gaze came to rest on his legion brand, her chest rose and
fell rapidly.
“I do not hurt animals,” he muttered, his pride
lost in the grains of sand beneath his feet. He touched his neck where her
saber cut into his skin. Blood slicked his fingers, but the wound had healed.
“What?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He splinted his side with his hand. His inner
demon chastised him for being such a fucking fledgling. He was not sure if his
ego could take much more debasing. “I did not hurt your horse.”
Her eyes darted to her steed. The stallion shoved
his back and Bomani stumbled. Damn if he could not cut a break.
“Execution, get away from him.”
“Execution,” he repeated and snared the horse’s
reins. A warm velvety muzzle greeted his palm. The horse nuzzled his pants
pocket.
“Get away from him,” she snapped, this time at
Bomani.
He tightened his grip on the reins. “Stow your
weapons.”
Black sand kicked up as she pivoted to face him.
“Fine, not that I need them anyway.”
He sneered, a spark of aggression ignited in his
chest at her insult but fizzled before it gained any strength. Despite the
energy he absorbed, his extremities hung heavy, his alpha silent. Conversely,
she had fully recovered, the potency of her gifts threatening to flatten him on
his ass again if he made one wrong move.
He guided the horse forward and held out the
reins. Her gaze targeted him and swiftly swept over his chest. She clasped the
leather straps, but his hand lingered a moment before he finally released it.
“Why are you here—Commander?”
The title sent shards of regret through his chest.
He frowned and ran a hand over his overgrown hair. The reasons were many. His
stupidity. His arrogance. His belief—honor and loyalty meant something.
“Tell me! Quickly because the only thing