Chapter 197: Starlight

Elara:

An hour and a half later, I found myself flat on my back for what had to be the dozenth time, staring up at the silver-haired devil responsible for my suffering.

Lorien had one knee beside my hip, his weight carefully balanced as he pinned my wrists against the mat, and the infuriating smirk on his face suggested he was thoroughly enjoying himself. I, on the other hand, was reconsidering every decision that had brought me to this moment.

I didn’t mind losing during training. If someone defeated me because they were faster, stronger, or more skilled, I could accept that. I wanted to improve, and I was perfectly willing to endure bruises and exhaustion if it meant becoming better at protecting myself.

But Lorien had barely done anything except pin me down repeatedly, release me just long enough to let me attempt another attack, and then put me right back on the mat. It was less like sparring and more like being personally victimized by a man with too much free time.

Even Magnus had finally lost patience and left nearly twenty minutes ago, muttering something about having more productive things to do. Jasper looked equally exhausted, though whether from the training or from witnessing my increasingly creative attempts to murder Lorien with my eyes, I couldn’t tell.

Before I could demand that Lorien stop treating me like an entertaining late morning activity, Jasper checked the time and announced, "That’s enough for today. We are ending the session here."

I turned toward him with a flash of hope. Finally! Someone had remembered that I was a human being and not a training dummy. But my relief lasted only until Jasper added, "I’m heading to shower. You two can finish up here."

I stared at him in utter betrayal as he walked away, leaving me alone with the man still holding me against the mat. "Jasper!" I called after him, but the door had already closed.

Unbelievable. I had survived four months at Moonveil Academy, an assassination attempt, a disastrous car accident, political games, and an evening in a ballroom full of people who wanted to examine me like a rare specimen, only to be abandoned by my own blood knight during a sparring session.

Slowly, I turned my attention back to Lorien, who looked as though Christmas had arrived early. His blue eyes gleamed with amusement as I struggled against his hold, only to discover that he had secured my wrists far more effectively than I had anticipated.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Let go of me, Lorien."

His smirk only widened further. Then much to my heart’s absolute horror, he leaned in until his face was merely a breath away from mine and whispered, "Make me, Starlight."

The nickname caught me so completely off guard that, for one humiliating second, I forgot I was supposed to be furious with the man pinning me to the training mat. My heart performed that ridiculous little flutter again, the same one I had been desperately trying to convince myself meant absolutely nothing.

Starlight? Since when had Lorien Moonveil started calling me things that sounded as though they belonged in a love poem?

First, there had been that infuriatingly intimate way he sometimes said Moon, and now this? Honestly, I had enough problems without my headmaster developing a habit of giving me nicknames that made my brain temporarily malfunction. Unfortunately, my heart seemed determined to betray me at every opportunity.

I dragged my attention back to the far more pressing issue of getting the silver-haired menace off me, only to become painfully aware of just how close we were. His weight was carefully distributed so he wouldn’t crush me, but it was still enough to keep me pinned, and the warmth radiating from his body seemed to seep straight through my training clothes.

His hands held my wrists securely against the mat, his face hovering close enough that I could see the faint amusement in his blue eyes, and suddenly, I was noticing details I had absolutely no business noticing. The slight movement of his jaw when he smiled. The silver strands falling across his forehead. The way his gaze remained fixed on mine, as though he had all the time in the world to sit there and watch me struggle.

Focus, Elara. You are being held hostage by a man who thinks this is entertaining. Your heart fluttering is not going to help you escape.

I twisted my wrists, shifted my hips, and attempted to create enough leverage to roll him off me, but Lorien adjusted his position before I could complete the movement.

I tried again, this time using the technique Jasper had taught me for escaping a stronger opponent’s hold, but the man anticipated that, too. A sharp breath escaped me as I realized what was happening.

I had managed to escape his grip several times earlier during the session, but apparently, those victories had been nothing more than carefully permitted successes. Lorien had been going easy on me. Now, he wasn’t.

Unlike most of the students I had encountered at Moonveil Academy, who seemed to regard physical combat as an inconvenient requirement rather than a useful skill, Lorien clearly knew exactly what he was doing. His balance was impeccable, his reactions infuriatingly quick, and every time I thought I had identified a weakness in his position, he closed the opening before I could exploit it.

I had spent twelve years training in martial arts, and I wasn’t about to let a man with pretty eyes and an even prettier smile make me forget everything I had learned. If physical strength wasn’t enough, I would use my head. Every opponent had weaknesses, and sometimes the best way to defeat someone wasn’t to overpower them but to make them stop paying attention for just long enough to create an opening.

My gaze flickered over his face before I deliberately relaxed my body, letting my expression shift from frustration to curiosity.

"You know," I remarked, as casually as I could manage while lying beneath him, "I never imagined you as someone who was particularly interested in physical combat. You always seemed more like the sort of person who would defeat an opponent by manipulating time, saying something infuriatingly clever, and leaving before anyone realized what had happened."