Damien
the woods have remembered you
Damien knew the smack of her shield wasn’t just noise. Theea’s grin before had been all teeth and thrill, but the flat look she gave him now was different—frustration under the surface, maybe sharper than she meant to show. He’d only meant the hand as an honest offer, but he let it fall back when she knocked it aside.Then her legs tangled his. Quick as wire, mean as a trap. Calves hooking, ankles snaring, a twist that sought to fold him like timber over a saw. For a split-second his balance rocked, snow crunching under one heel.
Instinct took over. Damien dropped his weight fast, knees bent, hips low, shield jammed down against her shove at his middle. Instead of fighting her tangle with finesse he drove his free hand to the ground, palm braced in the snow, using the earth itself to steady him. Her scissor hold bit at his tendons, sharp and clever, but she’d have to haul a mountain to topple him now.
He exhaled through his teeth, steadying, then levered himself upright with a grunt, dragging his leg clear of her snare. The axe came up only halfway, held more as a warning than a threat. “Good try,” he said, tone even—not smug. His breath steamed white between them. “But you’re not bringing me down that easy.”
(Training 4/4)
ever since the first time you got lost in them
