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“Will you show me one more move?” Her hazel eyes blink up at me, desperation pouring off her in waves.
I glance at the clock that inches slowly toward lunch. “All right.” I cave because despite myself, I can’t help but give this beta exactly what she wants. “An easy one.”
Her face lights up, and damn me, but I love seeing that I put a smile on her face.
“What do I do?” she asks, bouncing from foot to foot. “A swipe.” She tries to take out my calves. “The jaw? No, oh my gosh, I once learned about a guy who could take someone down with just a hit to the neck.”
Does she have an off button?
“Turn around,” I command, and within a second, I have her in a bear hug. I lean down, smelling the overpowering onion scent. It instantly makes me want to sneeze, but there, underneath it all, is the sweet orange. “Tell me your why.”
Did I trick her? Maybe a little. Maybe I wanted to touch her and see what all the hype was about. Liar.
“Zane,” she says, struggling, but I hold her tight. She doesn’t know how to get out of this position without me showing her, and I don’t plan on showing her until she tells me why she’s here.
Fuck, I’ll even accept a because I need to protect myself.
“That’s Master Zane,” I whisper, letting my breath brush across her ear. Her shiver delights me, and I’m thankful I’m wearing a cup, although my erection does not fit in said cup. “To you.” And only you.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
“Why are you here, Aria?” I ask again. She struggles more, trying to break free from my hold, but I’m much stronger than her, and she knows it.
“Let me go,” she demands, her voice shaking with fear and defiance.
I tighten my grip on her, wanting to teach her a lesson about respect. “Not until you tell me why you’re here.”
She takes a deep breath before answering. “I-I…I have no other choice.” She tries to elbow me in the side.
I raise an eyebrow at her response. “There now, was that so hard?”
Her breathing stutters. “Yes!”
Beneath my arms, I feel her trembling as she tries to break free from my grasp. The scent of sweat and fear fills the air between us as she gasps for breath.
“Why?” I ask, my voice softer now, almost coaxing. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you need help?”
Something I noticed yesterday when Malachi tried to help her with her laundry is that she’s stubborn, but it’s also almost as though she has to prove to herself that she can do everything on her own.
Aria’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I see a flicker of pain and vulnerability. “Because needing help means I’m weak.”
“No,” I correct gently, loosening my hold just enough to give her some space. “Needing help means you’re human. It means you’re strong enough to recognize your limits and brave enough to ask for support.”
She looks away, her jaw clenched. “I don’t feel strong.”
“Strength isn’t about never falling,” I say, my voice low and steady. “In here, you will learn that strength isn’t just about your physical abilities, but also about your mental strength and the strength you will need to ask for help.”
Onion and orange blossoms float in the air, and she holds herself utterly rigid.
“Turn your head to the left,” I instruct. She sighs in relief. It’s enough pushing for today. “This allows you to use my weaknesses for your benefit. This position creates a gap you will slip through. Hold your one fist in your other hand.” She does as instructed. “Good, just like that.” She visibly shudders at my praise, and I take note of that. “Now, simultaneously, you will bring your elbow up and drop while slamming your foot on my instep.”
She gives me a little nod before she attempts to get out of my hold. She fails the first time and huffs out her irritation. From my height advantage, I can see her chewing on her tongue as she puts herself back into position again.
Once again, she does as I instruct, and once again, she fails.
“You’re holding me too tight!” she yells into the dojo, her fire blazing out of her.
That’s it, baby, burn me with your fire.
