30. Saoirse

Saoirse

" T here is no way they let me in with this dress," I told Vane as I stood on the ground floor of the bakery, wearing the ugly forest green contraption Xan had sent.

"It's... cute," he said finally, unable to hide the amusement in his eyes.

"There's a week until the wedding. I can find a new dress in that time." The dress was lightweight, but covered in ghastly leaf-like motifs that covered the hips and thigh area. I played around with it, gasping when I felt a small, almost imperceptible slice in the fabric.

"Vane!" I exclaimed as I reached my hand in, colliding with my leg. His brows shot up in surprise, then a laugh that lit up his face, a freeing sound he didn't always easily offer. In those moments when he smiled, I had a hard time seeing the man that had brutally torn apart Jephyr. "It has pockets!"

"A hidden entrance," he said, stepping closer to inspect it. "How clever."

I looked up at him, a little more hopeful about our mission, regardless of how ugly the dress was. "It's perfect."

Vane's eyes were soft as he met my gaze. "You should know how to defend yourself. Just in case."

My heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice. "You think it'll come to that?"

"I hope not," he said, his expression serious. "And I'll do everything in my power to protect you. But it's better to be prepared for the unexpected."

"I don't know the first thing about fighting," I complained, gesturing feebly to the hideous clothing currently decorating my body. "I'd be better off just running away."

He stared at me, his voice low when he said, "Sometimes that's not an option."

And that, I understood, better than anything else.

Soon after, we stood in a wide clearing, deep in the forest where we could practice. We'd donned our normal clothes, instead opting for casual fighting leathers that Xan had helped outfit us with. The air was fresh and cool; the sky threatening to rain. We were deep into winter, nearly on the cusp of spring, but in Sol the worst weather we got was the occasional thunderstorm. The rain was welcome, giving extra vitality to our crops and gardens.

"Let's start with some basics," Vane said, positioning himself in front of me. "First, how to break free if someone grabs you." He gave me a pointed look, and the memory of bashing my head into Jephyr's flashed.

I nodded, trying to focus on his words as he moved in closer, my heart skittering in response. He took my wrist gently, putting them into the position he wanted, his arms coming around to completely surround me.

"Like this," he demonstrated, seemingly unaffected by my proximity, his grip firm but careful. I followed his movements, a rush of empowerment as I successfully broke free. "No one should be able to grab you if you don't want them to. The harder you resist, the easier they will give up."

"You're going easy on me," I scowled at him. "I don't have power, but I'm not a fragile piece of glass. Pulling your punches doesn't help me, either."

Vane's eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of respect mingling with the amusement that danced in his eyes. "Alright then."

He stepped closer again, more determined this time. He moved quickly, his hands grabbing my wrists with a firm, slightly painful grip. The sudden intensity caught me off guard, but remembering his earlier instruction, I twisted my wrists, pulling away with more force this time and knocking him off balance.

"Good," he said, his voice filled with approval. "Now, again. Faster."

We repeated it several times, each time his grip tightening even more, until by the end of it I felt like he was actually taking me at face value. The sun continued to sink lower in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the trees around us, a sheen of sweat covering my entire body. Despite the reasoning behind the practice, I found it exhilarating, finally learning to at least protect myself a little bit.

It occurred to me that maybe I wasn't as bad at all this as I thought. Maybe I just needed to be taught.

Vane came to stand behind me, his arm coming around my neck in a mock chokehold. The sudden closeness was distracting, the heat of his body pressing against my back, sending zings through my body that had nothing to do with the cold. I focused on his instructions, trying to ignore the way his breath tickled my ear, the way his lips had felt when they were on my—

"If someone grabs you like this, you have a few options," he said, guiding his free hand to mine, bringing it up to the hand that rested near my throat. He placed my much smaller hand over his exposed fingers, curling my fingertips around his. "You can pull them back," he said, flexing his fingers backward to prove his point. "Until they let go."

He gripped my hand again, raising it up until my hand was covering his right ear, and he dipped his head down so he was right behind my own, tickling me with his exhale. "You could pull their ear. You'd be surprised how easily that will throw someone off guard."

He left my hand where it was, his fingers trailing a scorching pattern down my exposed arm, brushing down the side of my body, the heat of his hand still palpable through my clothes, until it finally came to a rest on my hip. His other hand stayed wrapped around my throat, barely any pressure applied at all at this point. His head dipped further, his nose burying itself into the crook of my neck, breathing deeply against my skin.

"Vane," I warned, but it was half-hearted. I knew it was bad, but I didn't want to stop him, and I highly doubted that I could.

"But my personal favorite," he murmured against my skin, "is to use your own weight against them. As soon as they grab you, launch back with everything you have in you, until you tumble backwards. The impact will likely break their hold, and you'll be free to run."

Vane's grip tightened ever so slightly around my throat as he continued his explanation, his voice a low rumble against my skin. I wondered if he knew the effect he had on me, the way a single touch from him could turn my skin to lava. "Ready to try it?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. The warmth of his body, the firmness beneath me as he pressed flush against me, was almost too much to bear, my heart racing. He mumbled some instruction about how to shift my weight and create momentum for me to push against, but he might as well have been talking to a tree.

"On the count of three," he said, his breath hot against my neck. "One, two, three. "

With all the strength I could muster, I hopped against the ground, throwing myself into the motion as I pushed backward. It was awkward and not well executed, and my foot somehow ended up tangled with his, the both of us crashing toward the ground at lightning speed. The world spun for just a moment, and I landed hard, Vane's weight pressing down on me. His hand held the back of my head, gently laying it down, protecting me from the headache that would have caused.

I laughed awkwardly, my breath catching as Vane's body pressed against mine, firmly pinning me down. "Get off me," I whispered, but my voice betrayed me, lacking the conviction I had intended.

Vane smirked slightly, and didn't move.

"Should I?" he challenged, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill through me. "I will if you want me to."

"I—" My words faltered as his face hovered inches from mine. The air between us was charged, the tension almost unbearable. "I didn't expect to—"

"To what?" His voice was soft, almost teasing. "To get this close?" His eyes darkened, and I felt his grip tighten around where they were at my waist, holding me in place.

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to push him away, to break free from the magnetic pull he had over me. But another part of me, a part I was beginning to recognize, wanted him to stay right where he was.

"This is just training," I said, though my voice wavered. "We should focus."

Vane's gaze softened, but the intensity didn't fade.

"There is nothing between us," I yammered on, though even I didn't believe my words. It sounded more like a mantra I was trying to convince myself of instead of a fact I was stating, and I could do no more than hold his gaze as they returned to mine.

"Liar," he murmured, leaning closer .

His words, his closeness, the way his body pressed against mine—it was overwhelming. My breath hitched, and I found myself unable to look away.

"You're the one who said we couldn't. And—" I started, but he cut me off with a look that sent my heart careening.

"The more time I spend with you, the less time I want to be apart," he admitted hoarsely, his lips so close to mine I could reach out and taste them. "Come back with me, Saoirse. When this is all over, come to Umbra."