Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(89)

Chapter 49

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

Cayan was looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes. He wanted to laugh at her but kept himself from indulging.

They had been stationary for a week, putting together the crippled city of Tonnicka. The Inkna had all been killed and burned in a great pyre, the townspeople celebrating their demise and worshipping Cayan as their savior, but there were still months of destruction that had to be undone. Lucius had reestablished the local government, and they were already reshaping their community. Half of Cayan’s men returned to their homes, taking word of their victory, the bodies of those that did not make it, and the sick that could sit on a horse for the trip back. The rest remained to finish rebuilding the city with their sweat and hard work, or to recover.

With the trees at Shanti’s back, and nightly visits from Cayan to give her energy through the healing process, plus what she had learned from the little mouse they had captured in Cayan’s city, she was quickly mending. She gave that same benefit to Sanders and the other two that suffered mentally, and they were awake more often, their bodies filling out after being half starved, and their nightmares becoming less frequent.

She decided that since Cayan had sent Jerrol back to the city, and no one else had caught her interest, she would take Cayan up on his offer and beat some sense into him. Except for that nightly energy transfer, in which he insisted on holding her hand with fingers entwined, they rarely spoke or were in each other’s company. She was usually hovering on the outskirts of the fires, eyes closed, feeling the night, and he was with his men, talking and laughing and sharing a roasted something or other that the hunters had returned with or the townspeople had brought. He had his place, his world, and she didn’t belong in it. She couldn’t belong in it—she still freaked most of his men out.

The day of the challenge, the sun was streaming down, losing some of its heat as the season drew to a close and winter loomed. The men were all gathered around, creating a large circle, wanting to watch the woman fight without any other distractions. Legend had it she was pretty good. Marc and Leilius swore up and down that she was better than Lucius or Sterling, but it was said Marc and Leilius had a crush on the exotic woman and couldn’t be trusted.

Those that bet for her had seen a snippet of her in battle, though they hadn’t gotten long to gawk. Those that bet against had a bias, largely based off fear. They had heard what she had done with her mind, not believed the Captain was capable of it, and didn’t trust what they didn’t understand. They knew she was necessary, but didn’t want to get close to something so unpredictable as a woman who killed men with her mind, and worst of all, cried. Right in the middle of them sometimes!

Those were the men who learned that fear and arousal could sometimes go hand-in-hand.

Shanti was swinging her arm, warming up her weakened shoulder. It had been a shallow stab wound that was currently a scar, and would soon be smooth skin. The Gift wasn’t just for violence, especially when Cayan worked his version of healing. “Marc says no, I’m not ready, but you know him.”

“Doesn’t have a clue how to doctor,” Cayan said with a laugh, winking at an outraged Cadet.

“Weapons?” Shanti asked, motioning toward wooden practice swords.

“Nah. Mental?”

She stopped swinging her arm. “You want to go up against my Gift?”

He smiled so big it took up his whole face. His dimples were deeper than she had ever seen them. Too bad she was about to bloody that handsome face.

“I have a good block,” he said, pacing across the clearing like a jungle cat.

“I have a great attack.”

“Well, then…”

“Tobias, does that change the odds?” Shanti called.

“Yes, s’am. You are the underdog right now, but using the ol’ noggin will definitely change things.”

“Did you bet for me or against?”

“I appreciate you saving my life ‘n all, but he’s bigger, stronger, and faster. I’m against. Although, now I’m not sure. Even match with the noggin, maybe.”

“Noggin is head, then?” Shanti asked a still smiling Cayan.

He nodded and feinted at her. She didn’t bother to react. Instead, she opened and released her power, flexed, spread it out, then condensed it down. She took hold of his mind and found his block.

“Ready, then?” she asked.

He must have known what she found because he smiled bigger. “I’ve learned a thing or two.”

“I don’t care, I’m getting bored. Let’s do this.”

She barely had time to react, he came at her so fast. Giant spans of arms and legs speeding toward her body with incredible strength behind them. She didn’t want to take a solid hit from him and she couldn’t block without risking damage. For him it meant deflecting and returning the attack when he compensated.

His arm arched toward her face. She stepped into him instead of ducking away, caught his thick arm with her raised elbow to stop it and then hammered her fists into the valleys of his muscle. His breath went out in a whoosh but he was moving again, grabbing for her body to fling her over his shoulder in a throw. She swiveled and kicked up, connecting with the side of his face. He took the blow and turned, leg out, sweeping her leg out from under her. She turned it into a roll, dodged a kick, and came up on the other side of him.