Page 51 of Raze
I groan and push up to my hands and feet. “And why am I being punished, exactly?”
He offers his hand to me, and I glare at it before sighing heavily and taking it. He lifts me up with ease, and I sway into his chest. “For letting your guard down.” I can feel the rumble of his deep voice where my hands are pressed against him. His hands steady me at myshoulders, and then he steps back, forcing me to stand on my own two feet.
I swipe the hair that’s framing my face out of my eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to drink or have fun if I’m with you guys? Are you trying to make me leave? Because all you have to do is say so.”
This week’s training has focused on fighting with weapons in close combat. Today, in particular, is working with knives. Before we reset to go again, Kellan hands me the knife back by its hilt. It’s small and fits easily in my hand. I have to be close to my opponent to use it, but that’s the point of him training me. I need to be able to fight when the element of surprise is no longer an option for me.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls at me. I raise an eyebrow at him while taking the knife, but he grips the blade and doesn’t let go. “Drink all you want. But you have to still be able to fight while intoxicated. Or”—he looks down my body and back up to my face—“while hungover.”
He releases the blade, and I frown at the drops of blood that fall from his hand. I know he’s confident in his gift healing him, but I can’t say that I enjoy how easily he hurts himself for no good reason. Especially when he told me he's made no progress with his own training and testing of his gift.
I adjust the knife in my grip; the blade directed out the back of my hand as I angle it to point at Kellan, and my other hand is up and at the ready. My feet shift into the stance he taught me to keep my balance and reduce the target areas of my body by angling to the side.
He smirks at me, taking in my pose, and makes slight adjustmentsuntil he’s satisfied. Then he crouches into his own stance to show he’s ready, and I attack.
I swing out to stab him in the ribs, but he catches my wrist and spins me around. I drop the knife to my other hand and try again, this time in a slicing motion, but he releases my other wrist and backhands my attacking hand so hard that the knife flies out of my grip.
Kellan grabs and flips me onto my back, his forearm pressing into my throat and his body pinning mine into the mat. His face draws close, until whatever air I can still taste is all him. Musk and sweat that’s delicious on my tongue and causes a low throb between my thighs in response.
“Tell me what you did wrong, beautiful.”
I squirm beneath him, but we both know it’s futile. I’m well and truly trapped by him. But I also won’t complain about rubbing against him if it means I might make a weak point in his hold on me.
He smirks, like he knows exactly what I’m trying to do, and leans closer so his breath can tickle my ear. “What have I been telling you about your non-dominant hand?”
“It’s weak,” I mutter.
Kell nods. “As soon as you switched your knife to that hand, I knew I could knock it free easily. Because it’s not used to fighting. It doesn’t pull the trigger. It’s not the hand you’ve used to kill or fight with in the past. And that’s a big weakness that’s easy to exploit.” His other hand reaches for my left and brings it to his chest. “You can’t rely on just your right hand when you’re fighting for your life.You’re cutting your potential in half by picking sides. You need to use bothequally, so it doesn’t matter which hand has the weapon or which hand has been incapacitated. You have to be able to fight with every part of your body.” He folds my hand into a fist and reenacts using that hand to stab into his chest. “Make it second nature, just like you have with your right hand.”
“You say that like it’s easy. As if it doesn’t take people years as kids to establish which hand is dominant.”
He shrugs. “Start with using your left hand for everything you normally do with your right. Writing. Eating. Washing your hair…” Kellan trails off as he drags my hand down his chest to the waistline of his pants. His smirk intensifies into a wolfish grin. “I’ll let you practice on me, too.”
I yank my hand back and shove at his chest. He howls with laughter and rolls off me and back to his feet in such a smooth move that I’m instantly jealous. How can a guy who is so big move that well? “Get fucked, Kell,” I snark back at him, even though my lips are twitching with the desire to smile.
He grins at me and starts unraveling the tape on his hands, signaling the end to our session for today. I stalk over to my water and drink until I feel slightly hydrated again. Then get to work on unwrapping my hands as well.
“Do you agree with what I’m saying, beautiful?” he prompts suddenly.
I look up at him with some confusion. “Of course. It makes a lot of sense.”
Kellan nods, and minutes later, he says, “The same is true forusing your gift.”
I freeze.
“You’re not using every available weapon at your disposal if you choose not to use it.”
Not this again. I don’t understand why he’s so hung up over me using my gift. Everyone else would probably be relieved if I never used it again. But Kellan has been trying to bring this up with me multiple times since the fight with Thorne. “I do use it,” I snap, turning away from him to roll up my wraps for next time. “You’ve seen me use it.”
“Only as a last resort. And even you admit that you don’t think you have control over it. That’s exactly like your left hand. You can use it, but there’s no strength, no control there, and it becomes more of a liability than a strength. Youhaveto train it too, so it can be something that you can depend on rather than be afraid of.”
My heart beats erratically in my chest at the topic of conversation, and I fight to slow my breaths and regain control over my body. I close my eyes and take a long, drawn out breath before answering. “Maybe you should be grateful I don’t use my gift more, Kellan. You have no idea what I’m truly capable of if I were to use it to its fullest.”
I don’t look at him when I leave the room. I don’t want to see whether or not he believes what I’m saying.
I can’t let myself become comfortable using my gift again.
Chapter thirteen
