chapter fifteen

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 "You sure you want to do this?" Rowyn smirked at Peter. "I may burn you."

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Bring it on, Fireheart." That was all Rowyn needed to lunge at Peter with her daggers in hand. He was quick to move his sword out and block her attempt.

They shared a smirk behind their blades before Rowyn twisted around to cut his arm and trip him so he stumbled forward.

"Bitch." He spoke playfully, ignoring the pain in his arm.

Rowyn smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

He lunged for her and the sound of her daggers clattering to the ground made Peter smile. He swung his sword at her—to which she dodged easily—and was able to grab her shoulder and turn her around so her back was to his chest and his sword rested against her neck.

"You're dead." He whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Oh really?" She questioned and Pete felt something pressed against his ribs. He looked down and saw a dagger made of fire resting there, luckily the fire didn't burn him for some miracle. "The quickest way to a man's heart is through the fourth and fifth rib, didn't you know?"

"I guess we're equals then." Peter said and she chuckled. "Not that I'm surprised, though."

Peter stifled a laugh and released his hold on her. Rowyn laughed quietly and her fire daggers disappeared. "There are other ways to get to my heart, didn't you know?" He asked.

Rowyn picked up her daggers and flipped them around in her hands. "Oh really? And how would that be?"

Peter smirked and grabbed a rag to wipe the sweat off of his brow. Rowyn did the same.

"You know how." Peter told her. Rowyn smiled down at her feet and rubbed the back of her neck.

"I don't even know if I'm going to go." She confessed. "I mean, I'll show up for Lucy but the chances of me staying long enough to be dragged into a large dance are slim."

Peter shrugged. "Well if you don't, then I'll come to your room and we can dance there." He winked.

Rowyn scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes. "You play with fire, Peter, you get burned." She smirked at him.

Peter came closer to her. "Maybe I want to be burned." He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest—feel his breath on her face. He grabbed her hand and placed her palm over his heart. "Ignite me, Fireheart." Rowyn studied his eyes, his lips, his beautifully toned chest, the way his skin was warm beneath her fiery palm.

With a smirk, she removed her hand from his skin. "You're really interested in me, aren't you?" She crossed her arms, unknowingly pushing her breasts together more and making it harder for Peter not to look.

God, did she really have to wear that short black top when training? Peter found himself thinking while forcing his eyes to remain on hers.

"Would it be so bad if I was?" He questioned, crossing his arms as well.

Rowyn bit her lip and took a deep breath. "If I show up, I'd love to dance with you." Peter smiled at her and nodded.

"Does that mean that you're possibly . . . interested in me?" He questioned, taking a step closer.

Rowyn chuckled and glanced down at her feet for a moment. "Play your cards right and I just may be." She winked at him and walked over to the bucket of water they brought down for them. Grabbing a cup and bunking it into the water, she gulped it down quickly.

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