Chapter 22

“Shit, Rowan!”

Rowan’s towering form prowled from the training squares, a long stick in his hand and his glistening torso rippling in the moonlight.

“What are you doing out here, woman?”

“Has anyone told you it’s insulting to call them- woman?” Sylvie pushed her unruly locks behind her ears and pressed onward past the hulking Alpha.

“Why are your eyes glowing?”

Sylvie spun, blinking. “What?”

“Your eyes are glowing pink,” Rowan stated, expertly twirling the long stick in his hand.

She brought her hands to her face, and her focus on the tree’s pathways faltered until her eyes were useless.

“They are normal now.”

“Oh.” Sylvie sent her energy back into the earth to find the tree roots she’d been following and smiled as the world lit up. “I can see the energy trails of the trees. I guess the eyes are a Dryad thing.”

Rowan stepped beside her, his feet making no sound on the forest floor. She attempted to walk as silently as him, but the crunching leaves were her enemy.

They walked until the ground underfoot became smooth dirt, and Sylvie recalled her earlier grappling with Rosie.

“You never answered my question- Sylvie.”

She appreciated his refrain from calling her woman again, but the tingling up her thighs, as her name rolled off his accented tongue muddled her brain.

“What question?”

He twirled the stick again, spinning it around her body and catching the other end trapping her between it and him. All of him. It thrilled her to feel how much his body wanted her, even if his eyes and words seemed to say differently.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Out. Here?” Each word was enunciated with perfect English, a slight rolling of the r dragging out the word here.

“I- I-” Was it the right time to be honest? She hadn’t even been honest with herself about her motives.

“Speak,” he growled.

“I wanted to see you,” she breathed.

There was a second pause as he processed her words before his lips descended on hers, their bodies moving against one another and backwards into another hard surface. The tree bark scratched her skin, but she relished in the grounding nature of the pain as Rowan’s kiss took her to the edges of reality.

He palmed her cheek, using his thumb to tug on her chin, forcing her mouth to open and let his tongue dance with hers more deeply. Her body reacted to his dominance, and she shoved him back, sticking out her foot at the last second and tripping him.

He twisted gracefully onto his hands, but she continued her assault, grabbing his side and flipping him on his back on the dirt. With raised brows, he watched as she ripped her shirt over her head and stood over his reclined body, massaging her breasts lightly.

“Take off your pants,” she said, pulling her sweatpants down and kicking them off. He obliged and hissed as she dropped onto all fours, grabbing him tightly in her fist and guiding him to her drenched entrance.

“Wait.” His hand curled around her forearm, but she swatted him away.

“No.”

She lowered on his tip, and he groaned. “Wait, woman.” His grip tightened, and she froze, before lifting off and sitting back on the tops of his thighs, her eyes filling with burning tears.

“What? Do you not want this?”

Rowan sat up, placing his hands on her hips and searching her eyes. “Of course, I want this, but I can’t let you use me, Sylvie. If you want me, you can have me. But if you are looking for a fuck, I won’t do it. I cannot.”

She sniffed as tears slipped down her cheeks. He was right. Dammit. She did want him; of course, she did, but she was using him too. She was using him to hide. Hide from her emotions, her thoughts, her demons. But she did want him...

Shuffling back, Sylvie grabbed her pants and pulled them back on, watching as Rowan did the same. She sat crosslegged, still shirtless and buried her face in her hands.

“I do want you,” she admitted quietly as he scooped up her strewn shirt. “But not in the way you deserve to be wanted.”

He offered her shirt back, and she took it, slipping it over her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, his head hanging. Sylvie’s chest panged as he rubbed the back of his head. She could feel his hurt. What had she done? Without another word, he walked away, leaving her to her thoughts in the dark.

“C’mon, Vee. It’s been a week; you should at least be a little better at shooting by now.”

Sylvie scowled over her shoulder at a grinning Rosie and a few curious shifters. “And I already told you I hate guns. Can’t we go to grappling now? Hand-to-hand?”

Rosie rolled her eyes and stepped forward with a fresh clip. “If you hit the heart and the head with the rest of that clip, we can go.” Her eyes flashed something like recognition as Sylvie snatched the clip and shoved it into her gun. Rosie probably noticed she hadn’t been trying, the act of firing a gun repulsive to her, but this time she would focus just like she had been with the archery. She thought she probably could do it...

Leaning forward and levelling the gun with the target about 25 yards out, she took a smooth inhale, keeping her lips slightly ajar and narrowed her eyes. She moved her finger off the side of the barrel and curled it around the trigger, holding her breath as she lined it up with the head and exhaled, squeezing the trigger.

As usual, she missed the point she was aiming for, skimming the target’s edge and sending straw and bark flying. She grumbled in frustration, shooting twice more when a warm pair of arms wrapped around her and steadied her hands. The tattooed limbs enclosed hers, and her heart thundered in her ears as Rowan’s breath tickled her ear.

“Don’t let your emotions control you. This is practice, and these targets will not suddenly sprout legs and attack you. If you can’t hit these, what hope do you have if we are attacked again?”

She frowned and straightened her spine. “I won’t be using a gun.”

“If it’s between nothing and a gun, you choose a gun. Do you understand me?” Rowan’s voice turned hard, and his hands on hers tightened.

“I’m no good at it.”

“Show me.”

Repeating her actions from before with a giant man attached to her was slightly more challenging, but before her finger squeezed the trigger, he stopped her.

“Lift the gun higher and to the right.”

She did as he asked but sighed. “I’m not gonna have you there with me in the moment, so why can’t I just focus on what I’m already good at.”

“You will get better if you practice; now shoot.”

She took the shot and blinked at the bullet struck true, hitting the target in the head. Then lowering her hands a few inches, she took another shot hitting it square in the chest, this time without correction.

“I will do anything to distance you from danger, Sylvie, and if that means forcing you to use a gun, then so be it.”

She groaned as he let go, a mixture of disappointment and frustration settling in her belly, which annoyed her even more. He had been avoiding her all week, and then he swooped in, acting all protective and grumpy.

“Well, I’m going to do what I want to do now,” she said, almost daring him to contest her. He didn’t, though, perhaps showing a ‘united front’ to the spying eyes and burning ears.

“And what is that?”

“Rosie said I could join the sparring shifters.”

Rowan turned and furrowed his brow at a sheepish-looking Rosie.

“And who are you suggesting she spar? It’s the tournament today.”

“Why do you think I brought her to the gun range first?”

Sylvie put down her weapon and stomped over with crossed arms. “What are you talking about?”

Rowan’s jaw ticked as Rosie faced her and shrugged. “The shifters sometimes arrange small competitions to see who the best fighter is. No big deal.”

A thrill shot through Sylvie, and she started walking for the training squares until a grip circled her arms.

“What?” she hissed. “It sounds like fun.”

Rowan looked physically pained. “You can’t fight against them-”

“Why not? It’s just for fun, right?”

Rosie piped up. “We do gamble on it a bit. It’s clean fighting, too, Alpha. She can step out of the square if it gets too much for her.”

“Yeah. I won’t hurt anyone too much....”

Rowan’s eyes flashed. “That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

Regardless of his sentiment on the matter, he let her go, and she grinned at Rosie before taking off in the direction of the hollers and cheering. Hopefully, the fighting hadn’t been going on for too long. She was no expert and didn’t want to be sparring against the best fighters immediately.

A few shifters sat along felled logs with bloodied noses and swollen faces, but the majority still surrounded the rows of fighting pairs.

Sylvie looked for an opening or a shifter without a pair but came up empty, her disappointment growing.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

Natalie appeared from behind a small crowd with a bright smile and a sheen of sweat on her upper lip.

“I was hoping to spar with somebody, but I don’t know how all this works....”

Natalie’s brows shot up, and she rocked on her foot, checking the two people behind Sylvie.

“Don’t look at them,” Sylvie groaned. “This is my choice.”

“Oh, for sure,” Natalie said with a laugh. “But, I don’t think there’s anyone for you to fight... Everyone is on round two already.”

“What about you?”

Natalie blinked and looked side to side. “Me?”

“Yeah. I’m sure you’ve had to train since you turned, and you’ll have your natural shifter strength.”

“I’m not worried about that. It’s you... You’re the-”

“I’m nothing but your ex-coworker, and you are gonna fight me.”

Natalie’s eyes flickered in Rowan and Rosie’s direction again, but Sylvie caught her eyes with a grunt. “And no holding back, either.”

Natalie backed into the free dirt square behind her with a soft chuckle and raised her hands. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Sylvie bit her lip to contain her excitement and shook her limbs as she jogged into the square.

“You know the rules?” Rosie asked, forcing Sylvie to peer back over her shoulder. Then, after a shrug, Rosie informed her, “This is a clean fight. No shifting, no weapons, tap outs must be honoured, and if anyone exits the fighting square, the round is over. Got it?”

“Yep,” both women answered, and Sylvie turned back to face her opponent. While she hadn’t explicitly daydreamed about punching Natalie in the face, she was kind of giddy about it.

But she wouldn’t underestimate her. She’d never make that mistake.

Raising her guard, they circled each other, watching the other’s movements. Sylvie waited for Natalie to make a move, but when she didn’t, she realised for once she would have to be the offensive striker.

With a quick jab to test her distance from Natalie, she followed with a hard cross to the face and three more hard strikes to the abdomen, forcing Natalie to fold over her winded belly. Sylvie took the opening and moved in with Vampiric speed, twisting her body around Natalie and hooking her elbow around her neck, executing the perfect sleeper hold.

Waiting for the tap, Sylvie spotted Rowan’s heated gaze across the square and her cheeks warmed from the silent praise. She hoped the vigorous exercise would cover up her blush.

Natalie tapped, and the round was over before it even began. Rosie cheered, and Natalie rubbed her neck with a grimace. “Guess I deserved that. And I should probably train more.”

“Possibly.” Sylvie laughed, still catching her breath as the adrenaline faded and an unfamiliar elder shifter waved from the sideline.

“Will you join us for the second round, A- Sylvie? We have someone without a partner.” The elder and Sylvie glanced at Rowan, still leaning against a tall oak, who nodded once, and Sylvie jumped up as if she wasn’t waiting for his approval.

“Of course. Lead the way.”