Page 51 of Claim the Light
Beatrix snorts at him. “A Grudge dragon working over a hot stove?”
Micah arches his eyebrows at her. “There are very few Grudge left. We all know how to prepare food.”
She squints at him. “Nope, sorry, I still can’t see it.”
He laughs. “Tomorrow night, I’ll prove it to you.”
After we finish eating, I give Beatrix a hug.
I’m tempted to hug Isaac too, but I don’t think we’re quite there yet.
The next morning, another basket of food is sitting on the step outside our door with a note from Beatrix that reads:
You have to try these.
B.
P.S. I picked the fruit. Isaac did the baking. We’ve been up since dawn, so you’d better fucking love them.
Inside the basket are multiple large bread rolls with fruit and nuts baked into them. The fruit looks a bit like raspberries and leaves a tang on my tongue.
“I do fucking love them,” I mumble around the bread, filling up on the rolls before I begin another round of training.
For the next five days, I work hard at expanding my combat skills, both on the ground and in the air. I increase my speed and agility, along with my ability to defend myself—and to attack an opponent.
I learn very quickly that firearms are not for me and neither are swords or spears. Daggers, on the other hand, continue to suit me just fine, and Micah soon teaches me about all the chinks in a dragon’s hide through which to slip a knife.
Each day, I walk past Atrox’s armor and fight the urge to step closer to it. Each evening, Micah and I cook dinner, and afterward, I give Beatrix a hug goodnight.
On the fifth night, I hug Isaac too.
But in the bedroom, I fight my body’s wants, taking all the pleasure Micah gives me and giving back as much as he’s prepared to take, only to find myself wanting more than I can have.
By the sixth day, my speed in combat has increased so much that I force Micah onto the back foot over and over again.
“Good,” he says after I put him on his back again.
“But is it good enough?”
His lips press into a grim line. “To fight Tyler?”
I give a short nod.
“That depends on what you’re holding back.”
He looks me in the eye as if he can see right through me, and I nearly flinch at the challenge in his expression. With a sigh, I slip off him and into a sitting position, pulling my knees to my chest.
“Sophia,” he says gently. “Your combat skills have improved to the point where I genuinely think you could challenge Lana to a fight.”
I’m both surprised at his assertion and grateful for his encouragement, but I know he isn’t telling me this to congratulate me. “But?”
“But your power is still caged.”
I quietly consider what has been lurking at the back of my mind for days now. That I’m no closer to understanding the force within me.
“Mydragon power is all here,” Micah says, pressing his hand to his chest. “I can choose when to reveal my dragon scales and my wings. And my body doesn’t break easily. I can pretty much sum up my power in one simple statement: I have physical strength.”
He rises to his feet and holds out his hand for me.
