Renewed with determination, she matched each of his blows, again, again, again, their swords clashing together like lovers, the sound of metal against metal echoing through the forest. The Nightshade didn’t even seem to notice that they were moving in a specific direction. He didn’t even look at the ground until it was too late.
Isla swept around a tree, inviting him to lurch forward in attack—
Straight into a slice of bog sand.
It decorated this forest in patches, strong enough to trap animals in its clutches.
And, apparently, surly Nightshade rulers.
Once he was in it to his ankles, Grim couldn’t move his legs. He made to move, then startled, staring down at his feet and still annoyingly blocking her advances. He wasn’t even looking! When he realized he would no longer be able to move his feet while they dueled, he bared his teeth at her.
“You know I could portal out of this,” he said. “If I believed it would in any way impact my chances of winning.”
“I believe that would be considered cheating.”
Grim gave her an incredulous look. “And trapping me in this vile substance isn’t?”
Angry, he swung his blade harder than ever, and she met him stroke for stroke, her feet just inches away from the bog sand’s clutches. The tree hunched above them was trimmed of some of its leaves as their blades clashed at an impossible speed. Isla was afraid to blink lest she miss one of his blows, and by the set of his eyes, Grim almost looked ...impressedthat she could keep up.
Then, without warning, he reached his other hand between their blades, grabbed her by the front of the shirt, fell back, and pulled her atop him.
She would have been skewered on his sword if he hadn’t been holding her up with a firm hand against her chest. His blade’s tip was positioned right against her heart.
He had won.
“I don’t ever want to see you in my lands again,” he said.
Then, he vanished, leaving Isla to fall face-first into the bog sand.
GOLDEN ROSE
Isla awoke on the floor, having fallen out of bed. Sunlight streamed through the gap in her curtains.
No.Another dream had turned into a memory. They were getting stronger. Longer.
They had dueled. The match they’d had during the Centennial hadn’t been their first. Grim’s skill hadn’t been nearly as impressive then. She’d been so pleased with herself, being able to best an ancient warrior. But no ... she knew now he had clearly been holding back. He’d wanted her to look strong in front of the others, so they would think twice about attacking her.
Her hands curled into fists as the realization settled into her mind. “The demon let me win.”
If Isla couldn’t stop the visions, she could at least replace them—make new memories to erase the past. Erasehim.
Oro and Isla had just finished training. She had managed to roll a boulder across a field without touching it at all. The heavier the object, the more concentration it required. She’d rushed to move the rock, to finish the lesson early. Because afterward—
It was time to do something bold. Make clear exactly what she wanted.
She had just taken a shower. Her hair was still damp. She had summoned Oro to her room, and when she stepped out of the bathroom, he was waiting, freshly showered himself.
Isla might have laughed at the expression on Oro’s face if she wasn’t so nervous. She had never seen him go so still. She wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
His gaze was a brand as it traveled up her bare legs, to the red lace that left little to the imagination.
Oro rose from the seat he had been waiting on, his movements slow, like he was using every ounce of his well-practiced control. He walked one, two, three steps, eyes never leaving hers, until he was before her. “Are you trying to torture me?” His voice was thick.
She repeated the same words as before. “Yes. Let me?”
He didn’t even smile at her attempt at humor. He just stared, then closed his eyes tightly. “Isla,” he said, her name a prayer.
She waited for him to sweep her off her feet, to crush her against the wall, to feel every part of him against every practically bare part of her.
