Chapter 27 - Give Me

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"When I say we've had an ideal marriage, I'm not just talking about physical attraction, which I can imagine can wear pretty thin if it's all a couple has built on. We've had that and a whole lot more."

- Betty Ford

Song: Come, baby, Come - K7

Gwyn lunged towards Azriel, raising the wooden dagger above her head and aiming to thrust down at his throat.

But the shadowsinger's arm shot up, bracing against hers.

The priestess's eyes met Azriel's and she saw the victory already shining in them.

He brought his arm down, forcing Gwyn to bend sideways. Then Azriel's elbow locked around her forearm and somehow his other hand found the hilt of her dagger, wrenching it from her grip.

Gwyn staggered, trying to regain her footing and dodge the attack she knew was coming, but when she raised up, the tip of the wooden dagger was already at the base of her neck. Azriel's free hand gripped her shoulder, holding her in place. He looked down at her, equal parts admonishing and triumphant.

"Shit," she groaned.

Azriel huffed a laugh and took a step back, accepting her swear of defeat.

"What did I do wrong?"

"Drink, then I'll tell you," Azriel said, pointing to her canteen.

Gwyn obeyed, storming over to her water and angrily gulping some of it down. Then she turned to Azriel, eyes blazing with defiance. Gwyn needed to know this instant how that bastard had gotten the upperhand. She had been so damn close...

Azriel stifled a laugh. "Gwyn, I say this with the utmost respect, but you are the most predictable opponent in a dagger fight."

Gwyn felt her jaw drop. Azriel raised his hands and she could swear that his shadows were nipping at him in protest. They had been training with daggers for six months and she was still hopeless.

"Gods, don't beat around the bush, Shadowsinger..."

"You wind up your attacks so obviously. You really don't need to rear back your arm that much. Gravity will do most of the work for you."

"Just teach me how to get out of whatever dirty trick you pulled," Gwyn muttered, closing the distance between them and snatching the wooden dagger from his hand.

"If by 'dirty trick' you mean 'counterattack' then yes, of course," the shadowsinger said evenly. "But we're also going to work toward you not being the most obvious opponent in the history of Prythian..."

Gwyn rolled her eyes and assumed her fighting stance.

"Alright, go for that obvious attack again," Azriel said, his lips twitching.

Gwyn shot him a look then reared back the dagger, before plunging it down and toward him. Azriel blocked her with his arm again, and paused. Their faces were inches apart, knees nearly touching. Gwyn's heart stuttered as his hazel eyes burned into her.

"Twist your wrist and hook the dagger around my arm," he said softly.

Gwyn nodded, following his instructions.

"Good. Now use your whole body to pull my arm down. Twist into the movement."

As Gwyn shifted her hips, bringing Azriel's arm down, he gave her a lopsided smile. Once he was parallel to the ground and unable to see her face, Gwyn exhaled in relief. The shadows on Azriel's back wriggled up at her.

"Now use your free hand to brace my shoulder, just above the wing. Not beside it or in between them. Above."

Gwyn's palm pressed flat against his back. Beneath her hand she felt the muscles of his back twisting, ropelike under her fingers. Cauldron, he was strong. So, so strong. Gods, the things he could do to her... Gwyn's lips parted on a thin inhale as Azriel's wings twitched and his shoulder muscles rippled once more.

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