A grim smile lifted his mouth—one she’d seen curl up in joy, turn down in sadness, open to her with passion before he seized her lips in a tender kiss. This caustic expression was one she’d rarely found him wearing. “You’ll be waiting forever on them. I’m it, love. I’m your trainer. Over the next weeks and months, I’ll come at you at any way I damn well wish to make you learn, and you don’t get to tell me no.” He raised a sharp brow. “Still want to be here?”
Anger pricked her, followed by horror. What the devil was going on? Anka shoved her confusion aside and focused instead on quelling the hurt that Lucan didn’t seem excited about being here with her. “You’re my trainer?”
Lucan simply smiled. The expression wasn’t nice.
The ground fell out beneath her. “But Bram said—”
“What you wanted to hear. I drew the short stick. If you’re determined to fight Mathias, I’m the one who’s going to teach you how. Unless you’d like to quit.”
His tone told her that he’d ten times rather she gave up. That’s what the old her would have done, whatever he wanted her to do. Now? She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, one brow raised.
“Bram has a sick sense of humor.”
“I won’t argue with that,” Lucan quipped.
“I’m not quitting.”
Impatience crossed his familiar, dear face. Being this close to him filled her with a longing that almost made her knees give way beneath her. Anka drew in a deep breath. This weakness wouldn’t help her fight Mathias. She had to focus.
“Pity, but as you pointed out earlier, it’s your choice. That’s your only choice, though. Everything else is my call. Remember that. Do as I say or quit. Are we clear?”
“You’re being a bastard.” And somehow his hard attitude was arousing.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
She gritted her teeth. He’d always had a frustrating stubborn streak. Apparently, it had grown during their parting.
“Yes,” she hissed.
Lucan smiled smugly, and she fought to stifle her anger. He wanted her to get mad, goad her into losing her temper, so he’d have a valid reason to refuse to train her. Figuratively speaking, he’d shoved her to her knees and forced her to heel. It annoyed the piss out of her.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, painfully aware of the fact that his commanding attitude also made her wet.
Damn it.
“Good to hear. The next thing we’re going to talk about is your attire. It won’t do.”
Anka looked down at herself, then at his jog pants and trainers. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing, then?”
“It’s too baggy. It will inhibit your movement. It will give anyone wanting to attack you something to grab onto. It doesn’t allow me to see your technique as I teach you. I can’t feel where you’re putting your punches and kicks.”
“Feel?” The stunned question slipped out. “I’ve asked you not to touch me.”
“Sorry, love.” A satisfied smile slipped across his face. “Remember, training my way.” He shrugged and gestured to the far side of the room. “Or there’s the door.”
“You’re going to throw that in my face again?” She blinked at him. Where had the patient man and tender lover she’d known for a century gone? In his place stood a man who challenged, pushed, and baited. Both controlled and controlling. Anka shifted her weight again. No way could she lie. She was wetter than the last time she’d moved.
She closed her eyes.
“Every chance I get,” he assured. “You can only be here if you’re truly committed. I’ll test you hard and often. Still with me?”
“Yes.” How many times was he going to ask her? “Yes. Yes! Yes! Damn it, yes!”
He quirked a brow. “Good. Get angry. You’re going to need it.”
Anka could feel her temper bubbling up inside her. She’d never gotten really, truly angry around Lucan. A well-bred, Privileged mate wouldn’t. So she’d always swallowed any rising ire and deferred to him. That she didn’t have to now was both terrifying and freeing. But she was done taking the path of least resistance. If anger would help her train better, she’d let it out.
“I’ll come dressed more appropriately tomorrow. Now stop being a horse’s arse and show me what to do.”
Lucan drew in a deep breath, watching her with those blue eyes that never failed to lure her in and make her ache to be close to him. He shrugged and sidled up to her. “I want to start with self-defense. I don’t know if it would have saved you the night the Anarki came to our door, but it couldn’t have hurt.” He stared into her eyes, all sincerity and sadness. “I’ve wished a thousand times since that day that I’d shown you how to defend yourself. I never thought you’d need it in our own home. For that, I’m deeply sorry.”
His speech caught her off guard, and so soon after Shock had popped the cork off her emotions, she was having a hard time bottling them back up. The sting of forming tears assaulted her eyes, and she blinked them away. “I don’t know if it would have helped, but that sounds worth learning.”
He sent her a nod, then prowled closer, circling behind her. She tensed.
“It’s just me,” he whispered as he hooked his arm around her neck and dragged her against his body again. His wide shoulders cradled her, hard chest and abdomen supporting her. His hard cock nestled at the small of her back. Almost as soon as she felt it, he eased the lower half of his body away. She ached, knowing that he was every bit as aroused by this close-quarters touching as she was. But their relationship was over, the chasm so wide between them that nothing would fix it. Sex would satisfy her deep longing to touch and soothe him—and it would be the biggest mistake of her life.
Bracing his other hand at her hip, he held the lower half of her body just slightly away from his, but he bent his head right to her ear and murmured, “I’ve come up behind you with the intent to attack you. What’s your first instinct? Do it now.”
His low voice in her ear, demanding of her, made her shiver. She really shouldn’t respond to it or him. Then his words sank in. First instinct?
For a moment, she froze. Then his grip tightened, and actual panic started to creep in as her fight or flight instinct took over. She tried desperately to thrash and shove his arm away, anything to get free from his unyielding hold. Lucan wasn’t budging. She tried to push harder, getting her whole body into the struggle, jostling against him, kicking back with her feet, moving her entire torso so she’d be harder to hold onto.
Lucan wrapped his arm around her neck tighter, then moved the hand at her hip across her waist, yanking her right against him, trapping her arm against her body. Then he hooked one calf around her legs and hauled her up on her tiptoes. She had one arm free to fight back, but though she shoved, yelled, and thrashed, Lucan’s hold on her was absolute. Her frantic movements slowed. Each of her blows was harder, more calculated, but nothing she did had any effect on his grip. He squeezed her against him and began dragging her away.
Panicked, Anka tried to drag her feet. “No…” Tears stabbed at her eyes. “No, Lucan, don’t! Please…”
Immediately, he released her and turned her toward him, cradling her face. “Look at me. Just me.” Slowly, she focused her wild gaze, and he stared back, face heavy with concern. “I don’t think you’re ready for this, Anka. You haven’t worked through everything that’s happened to you.”
“Consider this my therapy.” She sniffled, determined to hold her tears back.
“Training isn’t the place to work out your inner demons. You need a clear head and a single purpose. Every time I come up behind you, you’re panicking, love.” He closed his eyes, regret carving itself deeper into his expression. “I wasn’t there that terrible night. For that, I will always be sorrier than you’ll ever know. I don’t know the details of your attack, but I can guess that Mathias grabbed you from behind. I’m not doing anything to intentionally frighten you. It’s all right if you’re not able to fight or face this kind of violence. There’s nothing wrong with leaving the fight to the other wizards and me.”
His words washed over her, gentle, almost pitying. Shame filled her. And anger. Lucan didn’t understand. She couldn’t outrun herself anymore. She’d tried. There was no peace in being a bystander, especially not in her own life. As frightening as this was, doing nothing terrified her far more. “I’m not giving up. I’m not quitting. And no, you weren’t there, but it’s not relevant. Mathias needs to be brought down, and I’m going to help. Tell me what I should have done and we’ll try again.”
“All right.” Lucan cocked his head and stared. Clearly, her answer surprised him. A little smile played over his mouth.
She knew that look; he was up to something. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is your goal to train me or try to figure out how to make me quit? Seems you’re doing a lot more of the latter than the former.”
He shrugged with a guilty smirk. “I confess. That was my first plan. I don’t think you belong shoulder to shoulder with a group of men fighting to the death.”
Anka stepped closer, shoving her face right under his. “I’m not the china doll you married. I’ve already been broken. There’s very little that can hurt me now. I’ll get better. I’ll adjust. I’ll earn the right to fight.”
Regret overtook his face again, this time with confusion. “Anka, you were a lovely, beautiful mate to me, not a china doll. You—”
“Did everything the way you asked of me. Dressed, spoke, walked, socialized. Even fucked. You’d be surprised if you knew the real me.”
He reared back. “The witch I knew never would have used that language. Further proof of Shock’s bad influence.”
“It’s not as if he taught me the word, Lucan. I never said it because I didn’t want to displease you. Just like I never wore pants or fixed my hair in any style except loose curls down my back. Now I’m doing things that feel right to me.” She shook her head. This anger directed at him was neither his fault nor well timed. “Forget it. I’m here to learn, not discuss ancient history. Tell me what I need to know, then attack me from behind again.”
For a long moment, Lucan studied her like he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her outburst or the information she’d given him. Anka wondered furiously if he’d ever had any idea how much of her true self she’d repressed to please him. But that didn’t matter, did it? She’d come here to be worthy of this fight. Everything else was shit.
“All right. I won’t argue, for now.” Silently prowling forward, he grabbed her arm and spun her, bracing his palm at her elbow. “If I sneak up behind you, your best weapon will be here.” He patted the pointed bend in her arm. “Try to work it past my defenses and jam it into my abdomen as hard as you can. If you’re not getting the opening you want, don’t forget that, for women especially, legs contain some of your strongest muscles.”
“I could try to kick someone in the…balls who’s behind me?”
At her stumble over the word, he quirked a smile, then shook his head. “No. You’ll reach fuck all in that position and put your attacker on guard. His foot, love.” He gently whirled her in front and slightly to his side, leaning around her so that she could see his face. He demonstrated what he wanted with one foot, raising it and stomping it down on the ballroom floor with shaking force. “If someone’s foot had been under mine, that would have hurt like hell, yes?”
“Absolutely.” She blinked at him, only now aware that his body cradled hers, and his arm curled around her waist, fingers caressing her upper arm.
The heat of his touch seeped into her, warming places that had been so dark and cold inside her for months. As he stepped up behind her, his palm brushed up her arm. He hugged her against him again, settling his chin on her shoulder. She heard his exhalation, rougher than normal, in her ear. His other arm wrapped around her waist again, and he held her tenderly, as if the past few months had never happened. She closed her eyes, her breath trapped in her chest, wondering if she’d feel his lips on her neck and his suggestive murmur against her skin the way she had for a century. Her entire body ached with the thought of Lucan holding her again. But he’d bloody moved on. His appearance with the surrogate yesterday was painful proof of that. Everything that had passed between her and Shock yesterday only underscored the fact that she wasn’t living that old life anymore.
Problem was, Anka still wasn’t completely clear how to live this life.
She stiffened in his hold. “Are you ready?”
