Page 137 of Star Bringer
“Yeah, but Milla has been fighting all her life. The princess has never lifted a finger against anyone.”
“No, she just pays people to kill for her,” Beckett mutters.
Max ignores the interruption. “Kali just needs to start with someone smaller. She needs to get the feeling of what works and what doesn’t. She can’t get that sparring with you because there’s no give in you.”
Ian lifts a brow. “Are you volunteering?”
“I’m not that much smaller than you.” Max snorts. “And neither is Merrick. But maybe Gage—”
Gage squawks. “No, thank you. I’m a thinker, not a fighter.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Beckett rise to her feet. I have a bad feeling about this.
“You want to fight, Princess?” she queries, a malicious look in her eyes. “Because I’ll fight you.”
Oh, fuck, no. I turn slowly to face her. She has the temperament of a rabid faconal and the coiled energy of a rattlez. No way am I going near her or the insolent sneer on her face. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s also been fighting all her life. She didn’t get that scar by being nice and friendly.
“Sit down, Beckett,” Ian growls. He must feel the same way I do.
“Why not let the princess decide?” Beckett suggests.
My stomach drops. Beckett hates me again today, sure. But I have some of my own rage built up inside me. Because she isn’t the only one who lost a father. And while I’ve been telling myself for days now that it isn’t her fault, there’s a part of me that blames her anyway.
The Empire killed her father, but the Rebellion killed mine.
“I’ll fight her.” I know even as the words come out that I’m making a big mistake. Huge. She’s likely going to kill me.
“That’s not a good idea, Kali.” Ian looks worried. But I need training. And truthfully, we need to resolve something between us.
“We’re just going to spar,” I tell him with what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Right, Beckett?”
“Right,” she agrees, and even though we’re on different sides, we’re on exactly the same page.
But when I look into her eyes, a shiver runs through me. Because I see absolute, abject rage. It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen—because it’s personal.
Max gets to his feet and takes several steps toward me. His mouth is tight. Our gazes collide, and I shake my head at him.
The fact that he’s right there, willing to stand for me against Beckett if I ask him to, means so much to me. More to me than I ever imagined.
Rain moves to stand beside Max, a worried look in her eyes as she glances back and forth between Beckett and me. And Ian—Ian looks pissed as his gaze, too, shifts between Beckett and me. For a second, I think he’s going to pull rank as captain and refuse to let it happen. I can see that he wants to—it’s written all over his powerful face.
His gaze slams into mine so hard that it almost has me taking a step back. But if I can’t stand up to a look from him, how can I possibly expect to stand up to a full-blown attack from Beckett? So I stand my ground and put all my own frustration, my own anger, my own need to have the conflict between us over and done with, into my eyes.
It must be enough, because Ian blinks and looks away. Right before he takes a step back and gestures for us to take our places at the center of the bridge.
“Remember, this is a training exercise only,” he says as he walks toward the captain’s chair.
As my friends gather around, I know that yes, that’s true. But something more is also going to be settled today, if I have anything to do with it.
Beckett approaches slowly but gracefully. By the time she gets to me, she’s balanced on the balls of her feet.
I cast my mind for what Ian told me in our training sessions—find their weakness and piss them off.
But I’m not sure Beckett has a weakness, except for Rain. And I’m sure as fuck not going to go for her.
I move on to the balls of my feet, too, and start mirroring her movements so that we’re circling each other. She grins like she can’t wait to take a swing at me. I dance back a little bit, just in case.
Her only other weakness, as far as I can tell, is underestimating me. Except she’s not really doing that either, is she? She thinks I’m a crap fighter—and she’s absolutely right.
