Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 23

My back thuds against the flagstones for the fifth time that day. A burst of pain blooms in my lower back; I grimace but shove myself back up. Cyreus draws himself into a poised position, a cocky smile on his face.

"Quite good at defending yourself," he says. I roll my eyes and fix my braid. The early morning light paints the courtyard in shades of pale green, and the sound of guards sharpening weapons and clanging about in the barracks filled the water. In a way, it's reassuring. How many days did I wake up to exactly these sounds at Camp?

He flicks my forehead. I flinch away and scowl at his widening grin.

"Pay attention. Now"--he steps away– "try to knock me down." He removes a bronze knife from its sheath.

"This is not fair." I push back. The blade nearly takes skin off my nose.

"People trying to attack you aren't going to be concerned with fairness."

I lunge. He darts away, only for pain to sting across my arm. Swirls of blood flow through the water. Rich red dulls to misty pink. My fingers drift to the shallow cut. Good edge control if he kept it from biting deeper.

"Keep your legs apart." He catches my ankles with his foot and pulls me towards him. Once again, I'm slammed to the ground. However, this time he pins my hands above my head with one hand while the other presses the blade into my throat. Strands of his hair almost brush my face with the way he's leaning over me. Exertion paints his cheeks, and his every panted breath washes over my skin.

If he leans down a couple inches, his mouth will cover mine.

"...of course, you'd probably want to actually kill them." The rest of his words were lost to the water, and it's only once I tear my eyes away from his lips that I can process what I did hear. Still the thought lingers along with a little warmth. I try to stamp it out. There was nothing I'd asked from Aphrodite. There's no reason for her to meddle in my life except that she wants drama.

"Now, then." He sheathes the knife before pressing his hands on my shoulders. My attention snaps back to him. "One of the most important things to know is how to use your opponent's position against them." Cyreus's lips quirk up. "Are you listening to me or are you lost in your head again?"

"You say that like I do that a lot," I grumble. My throat tightens when his thumb brushes against my collarbone. "Hand in shirt, knee to hip, roll?"

"Try it."

I snort but comply: fisting his shirt and quickly reversing our positions. I lean back, not bothering to actually pin him. My hands press against his stomach. It heaves up and down with every breath he takes through parted lips. "Do you need a break?" While I might not be the best at close combat underwater, once we were on the ground things fell closer to my range of abilities.

"Gods, I'd hate to be whoever you sleep with if this is your stamina in a fight." His eyes close, and he laughs. "Or who knows, maybe I'd like it." He rocks forward, nearly smashing his skull into mine.

"I keep telling you, what I get from my--" My words cut off as his sink in. "What I get from my dad is more than enough to help me in a fight."

"Perhaps." He quickly shoves me down and pins my hands above my head, straddling my hips. A pebble digs into my shoulder. "How do you get out of this hold?"

"Bridge." I flex my wrists. Bruises encircle the one Dad grabbed like someone smeared crushed blackberries on it. Cyreus loosens his hold. A dumb thing to do. Someone trying to hurt me won't be as considerate. My banter during training might make him think I'm not, but I do take this seriously. "This is a normal one on the surface."