I faced him. Ravagers are not warriors. If they overpower you, perhaps you are not a good Stav.

With an unfamiliar grin, I slashed at him with my sword.

Kael rolled out of range. “Bastard.”

He hurried to his feet, clashing his own blade against mine. Where he jabbed, I parried. When I aimed at his spine, he blocked, kicking at my legs. My muscles throbbed with the frenzy of a fight, my chest ached with each breath, but if I could belt a laugh the way Darkwin did, I likely would.

Somehow we’d managed to lose our blades, and there was no skill in our steps, simply sheer desire to best the other. With a shout, Kael rammed his shoulder into my side, encircling my waist in his arms and dragging us to the ground.

My elbow caught his lip, his knee my ribs.

We both rolled onto our backs, faces to the sun. Gasps followed, a few breathless chuckles. I could not recall the last time I’d fought for the sheer enjoyment of it.

“Ly,” Kael shouted through a ragged pant. “I defeated the Sentry.”

I snapped up. Lyra stood on the edge of the sparring field, alone. The gown she’d chosen was red as blood, and drew out the dark shade of her eyes and pink of her lips.

Gods, what was the matter with me? Her lips?

I spat my frustration and shoved Kael back to the ground when he tried to stand.

Where you belong, I gestured quickly.

He let his head fall back, smiling through deep draws of breath.

I’d never admit how much I enjoyed the spar. Most Stav were fearful around me and would never rise to the challenge. I gave them reason to be wary. I was brisk, brutal, and Draven.

Most of all Draven.

Lyra wrapped her arms around the curves of her waist. When I came closer, she lifted her chin the way she did when she planned to be defiant.

“Sentry Ashwood.” She tried to sound annoyed by the sight of me, but there was a tremble in her tone.

I unsettled her as much as she unsettled me.

I didn’t miss the way her eyes ticked to my bare chest for a moment too long. With one knuckle, I tilted her chin to look at me, then brought one hand up for her to read.

You are not to leave your chamber unaccompanied.

She scoffed. “My escort was nowhere to be found.”

Then you wait.

“I should not be held prisoner because you wish to puff out your chest on the sparring field.”

One half of my mouth quirked. You were looking at my chest?

“Gods.” Lyra’s cheeks reddened. “You’re insufferable. More so than most men. My tower is right there”—she flung an arm behind her—“I hardly think I was at risk of being assassinated on the short walk here.”