The Crowned Mystic: Endgame

I spin, striking first, my fist connecting with something solid, like stone. The shadow barely stumbles before surging forward again.

We circle, block, and hit, breathing heavily. A grunt escapes as strong arms wrap around my waist and heave me off the ground. My back hits a solid chest as those arms lock, holding tight.

“Give up?” a deep voice murmurs against my ear.

Braydon… that traitor.

“Not on your life,” I growl, bringing my heel down on his foot as hard as possible.

He grunts, loosening his grip enough for me to twist. I plant a foot against his stomach, grab his shoulders, and catapult him backward.

“Do you give up?” I demand.

A smile curves his lips, and his hands find my waist. “I’m right where I want to be.”

“Then I’d call that a win. I think I deserve a prize.”

His brow arches. “Who said you won?”

I stare down at our tangled limbs. “Pretty sure I’m in control.”

A lazy grin spreads across his face. “Is that so?”

Before I can blink, he flips us, pinning me beneath him.

“You still haven’t learned the most important lesson,” he says.

“No fair.”

He leans in, his lips hovering over mine. “Never let down your guard,” he whispers.

“You distracted me.”

“Are you admitting a weakness, my queen?” he teases.

I should have a witty retort, but all I say is, “Yes. You.”