Page 61 of Heimlock

Knowing exactly how excruciating the power feels, I release the lightning after five seconds. Clenching my fists, I sever the power pouring from my body. Everything buzzes, and the thumping pulse in my ears dulls the roaring crowd. The part of me aching at causing her pain’s immediately stifled. She wanted this, so she can have it.

Kyrielle collapses onto the sand, heaving for air. Stifling the impulse to comfort, I wait, giving her prone form a stony stare. Someone screams at me, demanding that I attack her. But I can’t — won’t — strike until she’s ready. This is about making a point now. She’s so desperate to know me? Fine. Here I am, in all of my destructive, unloveable glory.

Her head slowly raises until she’s glaring through her brow. A vicious, unforgiving smile splits her beautiful face; my heart skips, ready to meet the rage brewing in those stunning eyes.

Hopping up in one fluid movement, her hands thrust out. Black smoke slams into me, watering my eyes and burning my throat. The heat of it is so intense, my orbed eye can’t decipher any defined heat signatures. What the fuck?

Stars fill my vision as Kyrielle punches me hard in my good eye. Another reason I avoid battles — I can’t afford to lose another eye. The fact that she even went there, straight to my greatest weakness, unshackles any hesitation left.

The smoke is still intense, but my hearing works just fine. Feet hit the sand, signalling her landing.

Leaning down, I grip one of her delicious thighs and slender neck, tossing her across the arena. The black smoke dissipates enough to see her land on the ground with both feet, skidding backward. Her eyes never leave mine.

She grins as she sprints toward me. I’m tempted to electrocute her again, to fully put her down, but a new part of me is rising to the challenge in her expression. This is fun for her. Maybe it can be fun for me, too.

My hands reach out, ready to snatch her small body, but completely miss as she drops one leg. Kyrielle slides right under my waiting grasp, sand flying in the air, and punches me right in the dick.

24

Punching Trinte in the dick wasn’t exactly how I expected tonight to pan out. However, I also did not expect him to electrocute me either. It was a pain like nothing I’ve experienced before; Coach and I will be discussing hiding that little detail from me. I distantly knew Dragons have elemental powers over the weather, but no one has ever mentioned the power over lightning.

The blue Dragon collapses onto his knees with a bone-rattling roar, a sound I didn’t think they could make in bi-pedal form.

Maybe it should scare me, but all it does is activate lust low in my belly.

While he’s down, I deliver an upper-cut punch, snapping his open mouth shut. Wrath darkens his swollen blue eye as it focuses on me. My head knocks back as he lands a right hook on my face. Ouch. Undeterred, I’m quick to place both hands on his massive shoulders and deliver a gut punch with my knee.

Trinte grunts, sweeps an arm up, and swats me to the side like I’m an annoying bug. It’s with so much force that I fly through the air. With my wings protected, my instinct to catch myself is impossible. The sand is unforgiving upon impact. The wind was knocked out of me so thoroughly, I’m lightheaded.

Taking his time, Trinte stands with a pained grimace. It shifts into surprise as I execute a kip-up, landing on my feet. If there’s one thing I’ll never do, it’s stay down.

Ignoring my burning, overworked heart rattling against my ribs, I raise my hands. Using my second elemental attack, I shot out a dozen spikes of condensed fire. A kill shot for many.

Trinte grunts, his body jerking as the piercing points slam into his scales, exploding into small fire bombs. Blood trickles out of the already-healing wounds, but a newfound respect creeps into his expression.

Trinte grins. It’s a disturbing mockery of the one he normally wears; something tells me this one is more real than most of them. It’s vicious as he twirls a finger.

Sand flies into the air, a vortex of cruel grains cutting into my eyes, coating my mouth, and sucking into my nose. He’s created a fucking tornado in the arena. Distantly, I hear the crowd scream. It’s difficult to hear it over the howling wind scraping me raw. Tears stream down my face in a desperate attempt to protect my eyes.

Trinte steps into the punishing maelstrom, undisturbed. Air literally bends around his towering body, leaving him sand-free. Blood trickles out of his nose. His expression is nothing but cruel.

“Give in?”

I deliver the lowest of blows because I’m desperate for the answers I seek. Tongue thick with sand, I rasp out, “I know about your father.”

Trinte’s entire body shudders; he makes a fist, and a hundred pounds of sand collapses all around us. None of it lands on me.

“You know fucking nothing,” he mutters, eyes searching my face. “You’ve gone too far.”

He straightens, body coiled with unshed tension.

To my shock, Trinte spins around, giving me his back. The ultimate insult in the arena. Everyone around us gasps. My face burns with fury. I thought he would do something, so this complete disengagement is unexpected.

He’s not getting away with this.

Just as the crowd begins to chant his name, I bolt for his back. Someone calls out to him to turn around, but it’s too late.

Catapulting myself up his tail, I grab his long braid and yank his head back. It bows his spine enough for me to leverage myself upward off his sweet, toned ass. My legs rise, knees almost to my ears, giving me height.