where the thorns grow

CHAPTER FOURTEEN,

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | WHERE THE THORNS GROW

  RHYS LEAPT OUT of the way to avoid the gush of wind that slammed towards her. Dom retracted his hand and took a quick step back as Rhys shot out three consecutive orbs of red energy towards him, dodging them with quick speed. Not quite giving up yet, Rhys sent out a long tendril that made a beeline for Dom's dagger, and he simply let it drop and took out another one from his belt.

  "Wonderful disarming," he mocked.

  "Shut up," she replied, twirling her knives around in a flourish before pouncing forward to get into fighting distance. Her first slash was upwards, and he leaned backwards to avoid it. Her second was horizontal at his torso, and he blocked that with his dagger before parrying. She sidestepped to avoid the jab.

  Sparring helped her release stress, and she was stressed. The Meliqueans arrived tomorrow. No matter how much detailed planning she'd done, how she knew exactly what would happen, how this would end, she couldn't stop worrying.

  Have I lived enough yet? She always thought she had, but now she wasn't sure. So when Dom had swung by her room earlier and asked her to spar with him, she'd agreed without question. She wondered if he'd done it on purpose, because he knew how worried she was, because he couldn't understand why. But so far he hadn't prodded. In fact for the past day he'd remained frighteningly quiet about it all, which really was not his style. But Rhys didn't mention it, because maybe he'd simply forgotten for the time being, even though she highly doubted that.

  Dominic Lang, she'd realised long ago, wasn't someone who forgot easily. Some people were fooled by his facade of this young, rakish young man with too much charm for his own good, but not her. He was responsible, a rock who she could rely on in the gravest of times, and loyal to a fault.

  He was probably trying to help her calm her nerves in his own way even though he had no idea what was going on. That thought touched her.

  It didn't mean, however, that she was about to go easy on him.

  A sequence of lethal swings and slashes caused both of them to jump back. Without hesitation Rhys summoned a red orb of energy and tossed it at him again. At such a close distance, it hit true, sending him doubling back. Seeing it land, Rhys instantly sent out another. It hit again, albeit only his shoulder this time. Dom cursed and sent her stumbling to the side with a guff of wind. Rhys steadied herself as Dom retreated slightly, rolling his shoulders. She hadn't used the strongest orbs she could summon, but the one she'd just summoned would still hurt. She didn't want to give him any unnecessary injuries, especially with the Meliqueans being so close by.

  Besides, she'd always hidden her full potential.

  Sometimes she missed the feeling of being able to use every inch of her abilities, all her powers. But in exchange for that she'd given up all the rest of her freedom. It wasn't worth it.

  'That hurts," Dom told her.

  Rhys said, rather calmly, "It was fucking meant to, you idiot."

  "I realised," Dom grunted out. This time he went on the offensive. Their blades met in the air, steel against steel, and Rhys kept backing and backing until she knew she couldn't anymore and started pressing back. She was using two knives, Dom was using one, and she was bloody good at using two at once. One of those special talents she taught herself, since it was necessary when using her war fans.

  They continued their violent dance for a bit more until both were sweaty and their breaths were short and uneven. As they finally pulled apart, a voice from the side of the room cleared her throat.