“We have some time before we need to pick up Tegan,” he said. “Do you want to train for a bit?” He moved closer and wrapped one of my curls around his finger. “Or do you want to …” He lowered his head and brushed his lips over mine, and it sent the most powerful jolt of want through me that I took a full step back, shaky and overwhelmed.

“We should train!” I squeaked, not sure I could trust myself. Beneath the weight of all the new things I wanted to share with him, I was tempted to forget what we were actually here to do.

“Come on then, Captain,” he said, stepping back and arching his eyebrow. “Show me how much you’ve learned.” He beckoned me forward. A challenge, for sure.

He probably had no idea how much it felt like a seduction.

I planted my feet on the mat, breathing like I’d been sprinting. My thighs and calves ached; I’d done about a thousand knee strikes in the last half hour. The muscles of my abs and arms were screaming, too, courtesy of palm and elbow strikes aplenty. I had knotted my unruly hair to keep it away from my face, but tendrils of it had escaped and were sticking to the sweat beading on my temples. I’d shed my hoodie and was down to my T-shirt.

Malachi had stripped off his shirt entirely. It was miserably distracting. 
He stood across from me, a spider waiting for a vibration in his web. The only part of him that moved was his eyes, following me as I moved closer.

“Are you waiting for some type of signal from me?” I asked.

A shadow of a smile crossed his face. “Always.”

“It would feel less weird if you attacked. You know, like a Mazikin.”

“Maybe I need practice, too.”

I laughed as I took another step toward him. “You’re hilarious.”

I faked toward his left and then skipped back out of his reach as he blocked and recovered.

His dark eyes never left mine. “And you’re dangerous.”

“I’m trying.”

“Keep your weight on your rear leg so that you can propel yourself forward. You cannot rely on your upper body strength alone …”

Before he finished his sentence, I threw myself into an attack. He blocked most of my strikes easily with his forearms, but I landed a palm strike against his chest that resonated with a deep thud and left an angry red mark on his skin.

I dropped my arms immediately. “I’m sorry!”

His shoulder hit my chest before I could draw another breath, driving me backward until my back smacked against the wall. “Don’t you dare lower your guard!” he said as he released me. “You need to break that habit, Lela. Do your damage, drop your opponent, and don’t stop fighting until it’s done.”