Zayne said nothing.

“I’m going to take that as a no. What makes you think I need to?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “Because I have way more in-field experience than you do.”

“That’s true.” I uncrossed my arms.

Zayne straightened his head, features marked with confusion as if he’d expected more of an argument.

I smiled.

And then I made my move. Shooting forward, I slid down like I was coming in to home base, planting my palms on the mat as I twisted and kicked out one leg. I swept his legs from underneath him, and he went down like a tree, landing on his side with a grunt and then rolling onto his back. Pushing up, I spun and dropped my knees on either side of his hips just as he started to sit up. I shoved my hands onto his shoulders, straddling his stomach as I held him down, tapping into my strength—and the strength borrowed from him. I could feel the strain on my muscles, but he wasn’t moving.

I took a second to soak in his look of surprise and my feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure in having bested him. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs to practice defensive techniques.”

Zayne’s eyes drifted halfway shut. “Touché.”

“Is that all you have to say?” I asked, feeling his chest rise.

One side of his lips quirked up. “What did you and Misha do during training?”

“We fought.”

His brows lifted. “That’s it?”

I nodded. “We fought, and we didn’t hold back.” I shifted my hands to his chest, ignoring how warm it felt under the thin shirt. “Well, maybe Misha did hold back a little, but we fought each other and then I practiced with daggers.”

“The dagger thing is going to be hard to practice in here,” he commented, and I nodded. “But I think we could do that at the compound. There’s a lot of land and a lot of trees to stab.”

“I’m not sure I like stabbing trees, but that will work.”

“What about your eyes? The sunlight won’t be a problem?”

I shrugged. “The sunlight could be an issue. So could a too-cloudy day, but it’s not like I’ll always have the perfect ambient lighting when fighting, so it’s probably smarter to do it under uncomfortable circumstances.”

“Good point.” Zayne looked rather comfy under me, like he was taking a break.

“Are you going to be able to really fight me? Not take it easy?” I asked. “Because I don’t need you to pull punches or kicks.”

“Why do you think I can’t do that?”

“Well, maybe because you wanted to start with the basics? And you’re a nice guy. The last time we fought, you didn’t really come at me. Not as hard as you could’ve.”