Fireborn

39 ¦ Battle Preparations

After weeks of practice, I still couldn't hit a bullseye with a steel arrow.

We had physical, mental, and tactical training twelve hours a day, every day. Every muscle in my body ached. Muscles I didn't even know I had. Ones that I possibly didn't have as a Risa.

With only three weeks to spare, I was getting frustrated.

Archery is such a pain in the ass. 

"Tighten up your core," Peter commanded as he patted my back and stomach. "You're too loose. Steady your breath. Hold your arms like this."

Peter walked away from me to assist Marcus with stick dueling, and I tried to focus and steady my breathing. But his essence, redolent of mint and burning embers, lingered long after he'd gone.

Ever since I'd become a Fireborn, his scent followed me everywhere.

This is important. Don't think about Peter. Exhale and...

"Yeah, keep that core tight, baby!" Bragda shouted when I was about to shoot.

I jumped in surprise, and the arrow landed two feet in front of the target.

"Seriously?" I snarled at Bragda. "You have to let me focus."

"Oh, sister mine, do you think you'll have absolute peace and quiet on the battlefield?"

"I'm sure the Dragonborn won't be taunting me like a six-year-old."

"Indeed." She quirked a brow at me as she threw her ax, one-handed, at the target, lodging it dead center. "You might have a dragon roaring fifty feet behind you."

"Ugh!"

"So much better, I can assure you."

I scowled and drew another arrow. I hate it when she's right.

Peter strolled towards me and readjusted my arms and elbows when I aimed my second arrow. "Like this, Liselle," he whispered in my ear.

"How can I concentrate when you're always touching me?"

"Occupational hazard, I'm afraid."

With an angry shrug, I shooed him away from me. "Go bother Alicia for a while."

"Guys, stop that shit!" Alicia said. "I can smell your stupid mating pheromones from here."

"I don't have any--"

"Get it out of your system and bang each other already," Bragda said as she landed another ax dead-center. "We all know you want to."

"I do not bang anyone."

"Too bad for you."

Marcus chuckled under his breath. Taking advantage of the distraction, his drone Fireborn opponent knocked him to the mat and pressed the fighting stick against his throat.

Bragda aimed at the wooden target. Thud. "You see that? Dead center. Fifth time in a row. You know why?"

"Because you're a professional Fighter?"

"No, because I spent the night with Kaylar."

"Bragda!"

"I'm kidding. It just takes practice. Although it might help, who knows?"

"Wait, Kaylar? Do you mean that grumpy Dwarf from the infirmary?" Alicia asked.

"She ain't grumpy now," she retorted with a smirk.

Peter drew nearer to me, challenging me with his twinkling gray eyes. I'd missed those carefree days when we had pleasant banter and teased one another.