Their Fireheart

Chapter Thirty Four

Sensing my ill-ease, Rowan turned to me, understanding apparent as he looked down at me, communicating in that wordless way that made me want to cry with gratitude that this male was finally mine. I'll follow him at a distance, Fireheart. I swear to let you know if anything is wrong.

I refused to cry.

Refused.

Despite my stubborn assertions, I felt the back of my eyes prick as I understood what Rowan was offering. Not only was he promising me to keep an eye on my other mate as he confronted these difficulties, but I knew that this was Rowan's offer at not only unmitigated acceptance, but kinship to Rhysand, whether he knew it or not.

I love you, Buzzard. To whatever end.

To whatever end, Fireheart.

With a flash of light, Rowan transformed into his white-tailed hawk and took off after Rhys. I stared after the two of them, allowing myself a moment to collect myself from the emotions roaring within me.

A carefully cleared throat distracted me, a reminder that my two other mates stood behind me, not that I had faced either of them yet. I turned and froze. The raw determination in Cassian's gaze unnerved me, and then he drawled in that cocky way of his that had no right to be as hot as it was, "Well, while those two are busy, I do believe you owe me another round, little warrior."

I silently raised an eyebrow, "Do I?"

He smirked, stalking towards me, "You do. You see, I don't believe I really got the chance to show you everything I'm capable of last time we sparred. So I'm demanding a rematch."

The pure innuendo had me swallowing roughly, but I never backed down from a challenge. Laughing roughly in an attempt to dissipate the tension, I concurred, "Well I doubt it will change the final outcome, but fine. I'll allow you another opportunity to embarrass yourself in the ring with me."

The way his eyes sparkled with victory as he responded had me on uneven footing. Surely he was just talking about another training session - right?

"My idea of what the final outcome will be may be slightly different than yours, little warrior, but I'm sure we will get there."

Thirty minutes later, I was changed into my fighting leathers, stalking up to the training ring at the top of the House of Wind. Cassian was already there, stretching as he waited for me, and Az leaned casually against the wall, watching with an dispassioned expression. You could never tell what he was thinking in moments like these. Except then I watched as his eyes flit to mine and filled with a kind of heat that did dangerous things to my insides.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I turned back towards Cassian, which turned out to be a mistake. I almost swallowed my tongue as he tore off his shirt, revealing the full expanse of his chest. His artfully carved pectoral and abdominal muscles were coated with a light sheen of sweat already, taunting me in a way that would have me panting in any other circumstance. The temptation to trace each divot with my tongue was a visceral, violent urge.

He smirked at me, voice low and gravely when he taunted me, "You ready for this, little warrior?"

By the gods, I was fucked.

Cassian

Having to experience Aelin go head to head against the worst of the Hewn City had finally broken me - and I wasn't afraid to admit it.

Watching her strut around in the scraps Mor had disguised as a dress was bad enough. One look at her when she emerged in the red number that left hardly anything to the imagination and I was painfully hard and panting for her. I already wanted her with a desperation that was boarding on unnatural, but fuck did the image of her in that gown surpass even my ridiculous expectations.