“How’d it go?” she asked, sliding onto the bench beside Tessa.
“Jayce and Kylar gave me a decent workout,” Rush said, mouth tilting. “Didn’t have to fake being impressed.”
Jayce stage-whispered, “Another compliment. Saints witness.”
Rush gestured to the ring. “Your turn. Show them what your dream boy taught you. Tessa—care to try the Princess?”
Tessa was on her feet before the sentence finished, snatching a practice blade from Rush and resting it on her shoulder, grin pure mischief. Kairi laughed, swept her hair back, tied it off, and crossed to take the other blade from Kylar.
He handed it hilt-first, careful not to let his expression say anything Rush could read. Neutral. Useful. Waiting. And listening, because who knew when the man would put a thought in his head again.
Before they began, Tessa tucked her blade into her armpit and signed, quick and bright:
Kairi blinked at two of the signs. She glanced to the bench. Jayce lifted a brow; Kylar translated smoothly, “She’s asking if you can use lightning with the blade.”
Kairi considered. “I haven’t,” she said honestly. “I can try—small.”
Rush’s voice came mild and very not optional. “Two taps stop.”
Tessa nodded, wickedly pleased, and dropped into stance. Kairi mirrored her: left foot light, shoulders stacked, blade angled to invite trouble and answer it.
They circled. First exchange: test and taste. Tessa’s wrists were quick; Kairi yielded an inch, stole the angle, answered to the outside and, tap, took a harmless point on the shoulder. She pulled back and smiled to Tessa. Rush didn’t move, only watched Kairi’s feet, then her breath.
Second pass, faster. Tessa feinted high, rolled low; Kairi slid, caught, punished. A grin flashed on both faces, there you are.
“Add a thread,” Rush said, just loud enough.
Kairi inhaled, exhaled, and let a filament of power hum along her forearms, no brighter than a moth’s wing in the dream of it, barely there. The wooden blade didn’t spark; it thrummed faintly in her hands like a plucked string.
Tessa felt it before she saw it, the way Kairi’s timing sharpened half a heartbeat. She tested range; Kairi answered with a Tearian inside-step her brother had hated learning and loved mastering. Tap to the ribs. Tessa rasp-laughed, delighted, then came in hard with a street move Jayce had once taught her to break a grab.
Kairi’s heel caught, she yielded, rolled, and came up under Tessa’s guard—tap. The faint hum faded at once; Tessa shook out her fingers, careful.
Kylar leaned in, low to Rush. “She’s keeping it small.”
“Good,” Rush murmured, not looking away. “She’s learning to stop exactly where she means to.” You helped her a lot. Thank you Kylar stilled for a fracture of second and then relaxed. A compliment. That was good.
Third exchange, playful turned practical. Tessa crowded space, blade busy as hands in a market. Kairi answered with what the dream had made a habit: read feet, cut corridors, touch wrists not shoulders. Once, only once, she let a prickle of static lift the hairs on Tessa’s forearm, a warning rather than a bite. Tessa grinned wolfish and nearly took her knee for it; Kairi laughed, bounced, and reclaimed center.
“Point,” Jayce called when Kairi stole a clean line to collarbone. “And a pretty one.”
They reset. Tessa signed without dropping her guard:
“Again,” Kairi said, and they went.
The final pass ran hot and joyful, both women grinning, both blades clacking in a rhythm that made the courtyard feel bigger than it was. Tessa feinted a Tearian sweep; Kairi didn’t buy it, cut short, and tapped twice on Tessa’s blade, stop. She lowered her own at once, breath steady, magic already banked.
Tessa’s eyes shone. She tapped the blade against Kairi’s once, good fight, then signed,
Kairi nodded, already moving to demonstrate. Jayce leaned back, satisfied. Rush’s shoulders eased a fraction you wouldn’t notice unless you loved him.
Jayce had drifted into route-talk with Rush, but Kylar’s attention stayed on the courtyard where Tessa and Kairi were walking through Tearian footwork. Heel, pivot, slip. Tessa paused mid-sequence and flicked a look his way, then back to Kairi and signed, bright and merciless:
Kylar’s stomach dropped; his face did something undignified.
Jayce caught the look, cut off mid-sentence, and followed the line of horror to Kairi, who was considering with a mild expression. “What did she say?” he asked, already bracing.
Kylar made himself breathe. “Pin-and-hold practice,” he translated evenly. “In a very Tessa way.”
Rush stood, stretching a shoulder with a quiet pop. “Light lunch first,” he decided. “Then we start with what you already know.”
Kairi glanced over, calm as a drawn line. “Can we review the ones we worked before?”
“Of course,” Jayce said, the relief in it small and honest. He shot Kylar a look that said: we are absolutely coming back to the Tessa version later.
They ate at the small table, quiet and light while they sketched the lesson plan between bites. “Simple first,” Jayce said, ticking items off on a crust of bread. “Wrist snare. Forearm bar. Shoulder pin. Alley wall press. Crowd grab.”
Tessa pointed at herself, then at Kairi, then thumped the wall:
“It’ll be you two today,” Jayce added. “I’m with Rush on escort work after lunch, final lists, timings, contingencies.”
Later, on the way to the yard for the first drill, Kylar fell in beside Jayce and kept his voice low. “For the record, Tessa’s original phrasing was: ‘How do you feel about Kylar pinning you to the wall or the floor.’”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Jayce’s mouth did a valiant thing that wasn’t quite a smile. “Ah. And she didn't blush. impressive.”
“She is learning Tessa” Kylar answered and then started to wonder. She really didn't blush or really seemed surprised by the question.
“Noted,” Jayce said, eyes bright with suppressed laughter. “We’ll start with the standard syllabus.”
Out in the courtyard, Tessa planted herself against the wall, grinning, and jerked her chin: come on then. Jayce tapped Kairi’s shoulder. “Watch the sequence. Kylar pins. Tessa shows three escapes and one reversal. Then it’s your turn. We’ll layer speed and pressure after the shapes are clean.”
Kairi tied her hair back, serious and game. Kylar set his stance, mindful of mending ribs and gentler than steel, and reached for Tessa’s wrist.
“Slow first,” Jayce said, stepping back toward the door with a last look at Rush’s lists. “Then we make it honest.”
Kairi watched first.
Kylar pinned Tessa to the wall in one clean motion, wrist to plaster, forearm across shoulder, hips set to kill leverage. Tessa twisted into the pressure, dropped her weight, hooked a heel, and turned the pin inside out so fast Kylar took the wall with his ribs.
He hissed; she eased off at once.
“I’m fine,” he managed, wry.
They ran it again, slower, so Kairi could see the joints of the move: where the weight lived, where the breath belonged, where the first inch of escape began.
“Your turn,” Kylar said, voice gentled for instruction. “I’ll go slow.”
He took her wrists and set her to the wall. For a beat, everything emptied, just his eyes, the press of him, the steadiness of his breath. Focus, she told herself, and remembered Tessa’s twist and the calmer version Jayce had drilled. She slid out, nearly caught the reversal, lost it at the elbow. He stepped back.
“Good,” Kylar said. “Again.”
They worked it until the shapes lived in her hands. Tessa’s taps corrected angles; Kylar’s quiet notes found room for more leverage, more breath.
Then Tessa, wicked:
Kairi pinked; Kylar sighed to the sky.
“All right,” she said, steady. “Don’t hold back.”
He didn’t. He sealed the space, hips, chest, forearm, blocking each escape as if he’d been born in an alley. She worked every route she’d learned, breath quickening, shoulders warm from the wall, his heartbeat thudding a counter to her own. He set his forehead against the plaster, eyes closed, the hold absolute.
“Yield?” he asked, voice low.
Her mouth found an answer before sense did. “Not yet.”
She leaned into him first, close enough for her breath to warm his skin, then nipped lightly at the curve where neck meets shoulder. His breath caught; the hold tightened for half a heartbeat, just enough. She stole that inch of air: wrist slip, elbow walk, shoulder turn. Trapping his thumb to his palm, she stepped through and levered him off balance. He hit the wall with a grunt; she followed, pinning his wrist high and bracing her weight between his shoulder blades.
Her laugh was bright and winded against the back of his neck. “Yield?”
Kylar tapped twice on the wall. “Yield,” he said, smiling where she couldn’t see it.
Tessa slapped her thigh, delighted.
“Pressure, not force,” Jayce called from the table without looking up. “Force makes him fight. Pressure makes him think.”
Kairi eased a breath and felt it, how the angle did the work. She let him go at once. “Again?”
“Again,” Kylar said, rolling his shoulder once. “Your call: wall or floor.”
Tessa’s brows went up, wicked.
Kylar valiantly did not look at anyone. “Wall it is.”
They ran it three more times, building speed: Kairi learning to start the twist sooner; Kylar changing the pin to give her new problems; Tessa dropping in with quiet adjustments that turned stubborn into easy. On the fourth, Kylar dead-weighted to simulate panic and Kairi froze for a heartbeat, then heard Jayce’s patient, “Breathe.” She did—and completed the move anyway. Tap. Release.
“Good,” Rush said at last, and there was something like relief under it. “She won’t break on a wall.”
“Floor,” Kairi said, before she could talk herself out of it.
Kylar met her eyes, all seriousness. “Two taps, you stop me hard.”
“Two taps,” she echoed.
She dropped first this time. He followed, careful of his ribs, pinning wrist and hip. She bridged, failed. Hooked his ankle, failed. Then remembered Tessa’s note—use what’s there, not what you wish—and levered on his sleeve seam instead of his forearm. His weight shifted. She threaded a knee, stole the angle, and, click, had him in a tidy half-turn with nowhere sane to go.
“Yield,” he said, laughing now, more breath than word.
She released instantly, hand hovering a second over his ribs to make sure he was honest about “fine.” He was. Mostly.
Jayce finally let himself grin. “All right, Little Willow.”
Tessa signed, satisfied,
Kairi hesitated, glancing at Kylar’s side. “If I do that, am I going to hurt you?”
Kylar was already stretching his shoulder, breath easing out. “If something’s going to give, I’ll tap. That’s the rule. You do the job.”
Soon enough he was over her again, wrists pinned and knees snug against her hips.
“Okay,” he said, voice low enough for just them. “If you pull your knees up to my chest, you can push. Women have amazing leg strength—use it to your advantage.”
She nodded, drew her knees in, and pushed. It did exactly as promised: his balance went with a startled huff, and she shoved him off, rolling away and up onto her feet in one motion.
Kylar stayed down a moment, one hand braced behind him, gaze fixed on the packed earth. He didn’t look up right away.
Kairi’s stomach dipped. She crossed back and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Are you okay?” She reached, fingers brushing over the front of his shirt where she knew the bruises bloomed.
He nodded, finally lifting his eyes to hers. “Just aches. I’ll be fine.”
Rush watched them both for another beat, then clapped his hands once, sharp. “That’s enough for today. She’s proved the point. I’m not explaining to Ryder why one of his guards ribs are in pieces.”
Jayce huffed a soft laugh. “And here I thought you liked me doing extra paperwork.”
Tessa pushed off the crate she’d been leaning against and padded closer, eyeing Kylar with the unamused practicality of a field medic.
Kylar translated obediently, even as he got his feet under him. “Orders from our resident terror: walk it off, drink something, no more dramatic crashing into hard surfaces.”
Kairi flushed, but she didn’t argue. Rush steered her a few steps aside, hand warm and steady at her elbow, head bent to murmur something low and reassuring.
Jayce and Tessa were merciless.
While Rush bent close to Kairi, voice pitched low, hand steady at her elbow, Jayce leaned an inch into Kylar’s space, grinning like a hyena. Tessa, lounging now on a crate, signed with wicked clarity.
“Decisive,” Jayce echoed helpfully. “Memorable. Potentially repeatable?”
Kylar tried dignity. “It was a training context.”
Tessa’s brows climbed.
Jayce nodded solemnly. “Mm. Did you, ah—enjoy the context, Ky?”
Kylar stared at the horizon like it owed him money. Silence stretched. Tessa tapped the heel of her hand against her palm: well? well?
He sighed, doomed. “I may have… liked it.”
The admission had barely left his mouth when Rush’s voice slid through his mind, cool as a river stone.
Huh… what, does she bite you in that dreamworld as well?
Kylar startled so hard his flask slipped; it clattered, spun, and he crouched fast to catch it, face burning.
“You overdo it, Ky?” Jayce asked, confusion folding his grin into concern.
Kylar seized the lifeline. “May have overdone it,” he said, rubbing at his ribs.
Tessa nodded, brisk as a field medic.
“Agreed,” Kylar translated, gratitude disguised as practicality.
Kairi, still within earshot, looked over at him and caught how his hand lingered at his ribs, thumb pressing in as if testing damage. Guilt pricked sharp and immediate.
“I really did hurt you,” she said, closing the distance again. “With the throw.”
Kylar shook his head at once. “You didn’t. I just… moved wrong like an idiot, that’s all. The drills worked. Promise.” He straightened, carefully smoothing his expression, forcing it away from the echo of Rush’s voice in his skull. “If it were too much, I’d have tapped.”
She searched his face, then nodded slowly, not entirely convinced but willing to take him at his word, for now.
Rush rolled his shoulders, attention shifting back to the group. He hooked two fingers at Jayce, keeping him close. “We’ll finish notes,” he said. “Kairi, take Kylar and Tessa and show them around Brindlecross a bit. Jayce, stay here in case the escort has last-minute questions.”
Tessa’s mouth curved, already pleased with this verdict. Kylar managed a wry half-bow in Rush’s direction, then turned toward Kairi, letting her set the pace as they headed for the town.