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Or my claws.
Rylan grins as if he can read my thoughts. “Go ahead.”
I waste no time scrambling up to straddle his stomach. After the smallest consideration, I lightly drag my pointer finger down the center of his throat, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Delight courses through me. I don’t need the men to cut themselves for me any longer. I can do it myself. I grin and lean down to drag my tongue up his throat.
“Don’t get him riled up again, little dhampir.” Malachi lays next to us on his back, his head propped on his arm. “We need to leave the bed and do some training.”
“I don’t want to train,” I murmur against Rylan’s skin. It’s not quite the truth; I know training is vital, both the combat and now magic. But it’s hard to remember that with Rylan’s hand on the back of my neck, lightly massaging me as I drink from him in little sips.
“Up, Mina.”
I groan a little, but I obey. It’s only when I’m standing that I get a good look at the bed. “We are going to owe the owner of this house so much money.”
“It’s fine.” Malachi rises and disappears into the closet. He comes back into the bedroom a moment later dressed in a pair of gym shorts and carrying workout clothing for me—leggings, a bra, and a tank top.
I pull the clothing on, but pause when Rylan and Wolf make no move to do the same. “Aren’t you two coming?”
Wolf drops onto the bed and rolls until he’s pressed against Rylan’s side. “Oh, someone will be coming.” He reaches down and closes his hand around Rylan’s cock.
“Insatiable,” Malachi mutters.
Rylan clears his throat. “We’ll join you in a little bit.”
Malachi leads the way out of the bedroom, and I can’t stop the goofy grin from pulling at the edges of my mouth. I’m not naive enough to think that everyone’s worked through their baggage. That’s not how anyone functions; humans, vampires, or seraphim. Especially when they have the sheer amount of history my men share. Their issues will crop up again and again as time goes on.
But after last night and this morning, I finally believe we can navigate our way through whatever happens.
We end up in a fancy gym that has everything from free weights to various machines to a nice mat for sparring. I whistle softly. “Wow.”
“It’s a nice change of pace.” Malachi rolls his shoulders. “First, sparring.”
This time, I don’t bother to complain. He’s right that I need this training, and Malachi is an excellent teacher. Even if I want to toss him out a window from time to time because he’s so damn unrelenting. This morning is no different.
An hour later, I’m dripping sweat and every muscle in my body is trembling from exertion. Malachi executes a flawless move that has me spinning through the air and landing on my back hard enough to drive the breath from my body. He twists around to look down at me. “You should have seen that coming.”
“I did.” I wheeze. “Reflexes too slow.”
“Get faster.”
“Trying.”
He reaches down, and I take the offered hand, letting him pull me to my feet. He gives me a slow smile. “You’re getting better.”
“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’” I can’t quite pull off the grumpy act. My goofy grin keeps peeking through. I press my fingers to my cheeks. “This is ridiculous. I can’t stop smiling.”
“You look happy.”
Happy. The concept is as foreign as love is to me. But if I can feel one, surely it’s possible to feel the other? I let my hands drop. “I think I am happy?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“I don’t know.” I laugh. “I have no business being happy. We still have so much to accomplish. We’re nowhere near safe. We—”
“Mina.” The quiet command in his voice cuts me off. Malachi takes my face in his big hands. “Life is challenging enough without putting qualifiers on happiness. It passes, just like fear and anger and horror pass. Enjoy the feeling while we have it.”
I make a face. “That’s not exactly comforting.”
“I wasn’t trying to be comforting.” He leans down and presses a light kiss to my lips. “Now, onto the magic.”
Strangely, the magic training is more difficult than the sparring. Malachi sets me up as if we’re going to meditate, but his low voice talks me through the process. It feels like trying to bench press a car. I can feel the magic, but it’s so overwhelming, I can barely envision wrapping my hands around it, let alone guiding it to my will.
I don’t know how much time passes before he calls it quits, but it feels like I’ve learned nothing at all. “I don’t care what you all say. This is going to take years.”
“You can already feel the movement of your powers. That’s the hardest part.”
I give him the look that statement deserves. “If that’s the hardest part, I should be able to do more.”
“It’s the first day, little dhampir. Have some grace for yourself.” He holds the door open. “Let’s feed you.”
“Shower first.” I pull the wet fabric of my tank top away from my skin and cringe.
“Shower first,” he confirms.