The Shattered Circle

30. Burn

The clash of steel was what I craved. Battle always made more sense than peace and I often found pain more welcome than pleasure. Perhaps it was unwise, though, to push at those ragged verges, raw like scraped flesh. Yet I did it all the same, as only a creature who has never known contentment could do.

"Again!" I barked, hurling Shira's training waster back at her as she stumbled backwards.

She caught the blade by the hilt, taking up a stance again. This time, she raised the blade towards the roof, taking a high guard since the fool's guard had done her no good. Determination and no small amount of frustration sparked in her sapphire eyes. A war played across her face between those darker shades and her own inherent gentleness. Again, she was struggling to find her killer's edge.

"You cannot live by half measures and moderation always, Shira. The universe does not deliver all that you desire on a silver platter—if you want something, reach out and take it!"

Shira narrowed her eyes and I saw something click into place in her head. She came at me with the speed of a summer storm, the fury of tempestuous waves, the relentless barrage of a torrent in her blows. It was the best assault she'd ever managed, a combination of feints and thrusts as she tried to force me backwards.

I retreated just far enough to let her think she had me on the run before abruptly breaking tempo. As she struck from the heights with a wicked cut, I leapt forward at an angle, blade swinging horizontally towards her head. The point wasn't really to hit: it was to force Shira to defend and place herself at disadvantage while keeping myself protected, my crossguard between her blade and my head.

She caught me in a bind, trying to wind steel against steel, seeking my face with the tip of her blade. It was quick thinking, but I trapped her blade against the strong of my own weapon, just at the crossguard, and twisted viciously enough to send the weapon flying from her hands.

Shira didn't stop, even disarmed. She ducked the sword and charged inside my guard, narrowly avoiding getting her nose slammed flat by my pommel. The young woman hit me low in a grapple, disrupting my center of gravity. I was carried along with her as if by a wave.

We hit the ground in a tangle hard enough to knock the wind out of both of us. I recovered first, grabbing her wrist as she fumbled weakly for her practice dagger. It felt in that moment almost like there was no separation between us, as if the blazing heat of her fury had collided with my icy self-control, and everything warred on the precipice to see whose energy would destroy the other's.

Fingers seized the collar of my doublet and then lips collided with my own. It was harsh and passionate, not at all the demure expectant inclination of a head I'd seen in the vision. Shira kissed me like she was dying and I was her breath, her light, her life. The desperation had an edge of fear to it.

I don't know what I was expecting, but that was not it. I bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting a trace of copper as she gasped, flinging her dagger away in the same movement as I rolled on top of her. Sapphire eyes deep and dark with unspoken desires looked at me from beneath hooded eyelids. Her lip would bruise, already bearing the marks of my teeth. Judging by the flush on her cheeks, she didn't care, wild and half undone.

My mind struggled to grasp what had just happened. I'd been so careful to push away, but perhaps she had seen too much of Aleyr the woman to recognize the Butcher of Stonepoint, the Beloved of the King in Black. I trapped one of her wrists over her head, but the other hand slipped my grip to tangle in my hair and pull me down into another kiss, no less demanding and ferocious.

It felt so good, even the wrongness of it. It didn't matter that it was battering at the last bonds of my fidelity—it was real after centuries of a hollow facade. The spark of competition burned now as an all-consuming fire of desire. From her held position, Shira tried to control the kiss, holding me close as she parted her lips. It would have been easy for me to wrestle control back, but I still knew what Varys had done to her.