Draygon Inferno | Book 2 | ✔️

Chapter Six

            Siobhan spun her staff around, lunging it forward before spinning it again. She twirled it over her head, cutting the air with the blades sticking out from either side. Muscles strained under the speed of her movements, aching with every swipe. Far too much time had passed since she had a chance to train with her staff. Sitting around the Drakewood tavern had weakened her. It was her own fault for allowing the hags to lull her into a false sense of calm.

She continued to attack the air in front of her. Sweat stuck soaked into her clothes, rolling along her arms. Her breaths were timed to release with the force of her jabs. Without Elias, Siobhan was left training with empty air. It wasn't the same as having someone there to parry her attacks, but it'll do.

There was something therapeutic about training. Thoughts left her mind, focusing only on the speed of her movements and the stance of her feet. She let out a breath, swirling the staff overhead and swiping it downward. Another breath and she stabbed the staff behind her as if someone was trying to sneak up on her. Every move she made anticipated the movement of an invisible attacker. It was methodic, calculated.

"He's doing it again."

Siobhan released another breath and lunged forward. "I'm aware of that, Ayla. I can smell his perspiration."

"Are you sure it's his? You're not smelling too sweet yourself, Ice Fang."

Siobhan ignored her, spinning her staff overhead to thrust it to her right. Her feet shifted in her fighting dance, following her movements as needed.

"Well?"

"And what . . ." She lunged to her left. ". . . do you . . ." She spun it overhead and thrust it forward. ". . .want me to do about it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be teaching him control?"

"I'm doing the best I can." Siobhan gritted her teeth, her hands tightening around her staff as she continued to swing. The air became the face of the annoying lioness standing behind her. Her staff swung fast and furious, the blade splitting the stagnant air of the early morning. Sunlight barely crested over the eastern horizon, tendrils of mist still settled on the still cold ground. Winter was at its end, but the chill in the air still held strong.

"Well you're doing a piss poor job. Do you really think we should be taking him into the Pixies glade when he's like this?"

Siobhan screamed and spun around. The staff plunged forward, the blade stopping just before Ayla's jugular. The lioness didn't move. She jutted out her chin as if daring Siobhan to cut her. The diamond shape of her pupils didn't expand or contract, a sign Siobhan could've used to study if the shifter had any ounce of fear. Ayla knew she wouldn't hurt her, and Siobhan hated it. Sighing, she drew back her staff.

"Do you want me to say I have no idea what I'm doing? Will that make you feel better? He'd be better off with the High Mages. At least with the right spells they can cast fire, surely they could've done a better job teaching Wren to control his power." Siobhan pushed the buttons on her staff, concealing the blades inside, before she twisted the two halves apart. Her eyes drifted to their small camp set up under a curving rock overhang.

Wren lay on his bed roll, his covers once again kicked to his feet. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin, rolling off him in steady streams. Both hands gripped at the dry brush scattered around their camp. Steam poured off his body, matching the drifts of smoke wafting from still cooling embers of their fire. Sparks escaped from his clenched hands. Every night since they left Drakewood was the same. One of them had to stay awake to keep Wren from burning them all in his sleep more so than watching for wild animals who might prey on them while they slept.