Chosen - Chained

Part One

"Yield, demon."

Her whole body was shaking as she looked up into a stony face, the sharp edge of a finely crafted sword at her throat. Raven mentally calculated how much time she needed to launch an attack, but it still wasn't enough. He was too fast, and by the time she got out an incantation, her head would be four feet across the floor. Fingers digging into the sand of the training floor beneath her, she muttered her defeat.

"Good." He took a step back and sheathed his sword, setting it in the belt around his bare waist. "You're getting better at this, beloved."

Raven still flushed when he called her that. She was traded to the Al Ghuls in exchange for another prisoner, under the impression that either her team or her would find a way out of this mess, but that had been nearly a year ago. It hadn't been long after her arrival that Damian had started to take an interest in her, and it had been only recently that he started calling her beloved. She lifted her eyes to his face and watched as he approached her again, choosing to leave himself bare-chested in front of her.

It was even more recently that she had started to admire him in a more... physical way. Which was utterly embarrassing. Her eyes slid over his lithe muscles, and Raven pushed her sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes, glancing around the training ring to keep herself from staring. "It's late."

"Are you concerned?" His voice was low, a gentle rumble in the quiet of the space. "Is there something you need to do?"

You. Raven pushed at her hair again and shook her head. "No. I... I could do another round, if you want."

"Do you feel up for the task?" He took another step closer to her, his eyes such a verdant green that Raven felt like she was falling into the Pit herself. His eyes swept over her form. "You look tired."

"It's good training. You're a good teacher." It was the truth. She'd learned more from him in these last few months that all her years with her team. "I can do another round."

"Mm." His lips twitched, as if he was fighting a smile. "Flattery isn't going to get you special treatment, beloved."

"I didn't expect it would. Come-" Raven barely had time to sink back into a fighting position before she found herself flat on her back, Damian's dagger at her throat this time. She felt the sharp edge press into her tender skin as he settled his knees on either side of her hips. She winced and tipped her head back. "I didn't have time to get ready."

"Battles will never follow a logical timeline." He dragged the tip of the dagger down her sternum, the razor-sharp edge cutting threads of her tank top. He slipped it down a few more inches, exposing the tops of her breasts. Her body suddenly felt like it was alight with electricity, and Raven knew that with a few twists of her form, she could be on top of him, and she could...

"Enough." Damian's eyes met hers, dark and unreadable, and he leaned back, taking the dagger with him. "Go to bed and rest. You can try to defeat me in the morning."

"Beloved," Raven finished for him, her voice nearly swallowed up in the weight of the room. "You always call me beloved before you send me to bed."

He smirked. "Beloved."