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"Did something happen?" He steps closer and looks me up and down, as if scanning for physical injury.
"I'm fine."
He curls his lip, not buying a word I say. "The truth. Now."
"Nothing that concerns you." It comes out more forcefully than I intended. I take a couple steps away from him, but his fierce gaze doesn't leave mine for a second.
"Don't push me away. Talk to me."
"Lesson or I'm leaving." It might be cowardly, but I don't want to talk about everything running through my head. At least, not yet.
He looks like he wants to argue with me, but whatever words he's ready to fire my way, he swallows and points to the mats in the center ring. "By all means. Let's spar."
Grateful for his surrender, I take my stance opposite him and prepare for him to attack me the same way he did last week. But this time, I'm more than prepared, thanks to Nyx. I'm faster, stronger, and even get a few good licks on him which surprises him.
"You've been practicing." He doesn't sound impressed. He sounds… jealous?
"I have."
"Might I ask who you've been practicing with?"
My eyebrows lift. He is jealous. "You can ask," I backpedal to my side of the mat. "Doesn't mean I'll answer."
He smirks, though there is danger held in his gaze. "Should I be worried?"
"About what?"
I'm so focused on his violet eyes and throaty tone that I miss his shadows slip around my legs and back until they hoist me toward him. "Should I be worried about another professor giving you private lessons?"
Excitement pulses through me, but Riggs' words bubble to the forefront of my mind, and I attempt to do what he said of compartmentalizing my feelings. I visualize myself shoving the attraction I have for Atlas into a box and placing it on a shelf. I can feel the magic humming at my fingertips, but I'm pleasantly surprised my hands aren't glowing brightly. There is just a flicker of light, as if a flame is about to go out. His gaze slides downward and takes in the sight of my magic fighting to be released.
"Compartmentalizing, are we?" His eyes flick up to meet mine. "I suppose I have Riggs to thank for that."
"I wouldn't be worried about Riggs, if I were you, Atlas."
"Oh, no?" he coos. "And what should I be worried about, Strenlys?"
I inch closer, his shadows still curl up and down my limbs, flicking lazily at my lower back, and I whisper, "Your footing."
Before he has a chance to react, I wrap my leg behind his knee and pull, causing him to fall backward. What I didn't account for was him dragging me down with him. He smashes to the mat with a grunt. I scramble to get off of him, but his shadows hold me firmly in place, rendering me completely useless. I knew his magic was powerful and extremely dangerous, but seeing how little effort he needs to put into restraining me is incredibly humbling.
"Let me go," I demand.
"Tell me what's bothering you," he counters.
I narrow my eyes, "Are you holding me against my will to force me to talk to you?"
His shadows instantly dissipate, and his violet eyes return to their natural green. He splays his arms wide across the mat, giving me the opportunity to stand up, but I can't seem to get my body to move.
"You are free to dismount me, Princess." His voice jars me, spurring me to slide off him. He hops to his feet and puts a healthy distance between us. Raking a hand through his hair, he says, "You don't have to tell me what's bothering you, but I wish you would."
I could tell him everything. Tell him about the Tethering. Tell him about Oryn and Naya. Tell him about changing my mind about marrying Bastian. Tell him I have feelings for him. But I say none of those things, instead I throw a mental wall up between us. Thoughts of how I don't deserve him, how he's so much better than I could ever be, that even though I'm in Tronovia for the moment, I might not call this home, even for him, torment me.
He wants me to open up to him, but that's not something I think I can do.
I turn on my heel and beeline for my backpack.
"What are you doing?"
