“For the Gods’ sakes,” I mutter.
Beta Sinta looks surprised. “You fall over too easily.”
“Excuse me for being half your size!”
“Next time, I’ll remember that,” he says, extending his hand to me.
Next time? Next time! I pop up and launch myself at him. I’m not quite sure why.
Flynn, who’s on my other side, catches me in midair. “We’re a team, Cat, remember? No fighting.” Roped with muscle, Flynn’s arm covers my entire midsection. I go limp, blowing sweat-dampened curls out of my eyes. All these stupid rules of camaraderie! Gag!
Beta Sinta grins at me. Flynn sets me down.
“So which horse do you want?” Beta Sinta asks as if I hadn’t just tried to get into a brawl with him for no apparent reason. He’s just… He’s just so… Argh!
“The chestnut,” I answer sourly. “At least one of us will stay calm.”
*
I like having my own horse, and traveling with the Sintans without being tied up is actually kind of fun—something I would die a thousand horrific deaths before ever admitting to them. Carver thinks my sword technique could use work, so he offers to spar with me. Having seen him wield a blade, I can’t say no.
We circle, weapons raised. Kato is off hunting, Flynn is on watch, and Beta Sinta is polishing his sword, keeping an eye on us. My attacks are child’s play for Carver. He’s so fluid with a blade that I start to wonder if there’s something magical about his ability, some magic I can’t steal, or even feel. After an hour of practicing, I’m tired and sweaty, and I haven’t landed a single hit.
Frustrated, I spin out of a deadlock before Carver disarms me or pushes me to the ground again. Before I can turn back around, he spanks me with the flat of his sword. It stings, and I howl.
Rubbing my backside, I demand, “Do all men have a thing for spanking?”
Carver wiggles his eyebrows. “Most women, too.”
I huff, although I have heard…
“Ever been spanked before?” he asks.
“Don’t be cheeky.” For some reason, a conjured up image of Beta Sinta trying to smack my naked bottom while I halfheartedly scramble away flits through my much too active imagination. Warmth billows up inside me, singeing my face.
“You have!” Carver grins.
“Not. Answering.” Nope. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Beta Sinta look up.
“There are different kinds of spanking,” Carver goes on, his tone getting friskier by the second.
I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “Enlighten me.”
He shakes his head, looking as if I’ve just confessed to a colossal tragedy. “That must mean you haven’t been spanked enough.”
I’m pretty sure spanking is a metaphor now. “No,” I agree sadly, playing along. “Not nearly enough.”
Before I know it, he’s on my other side, slapping my ass with his sword again. I let out a screech that would make a Harpy proud, swing, and slice air.
Laughing, Carver dances to my right and feints, tricking me into stepping the wrong way, and then hits me again. “I could help you with that. Just say the word.”
He’s flirting again. What a pest. My rear end is a strange mix of numbness and heat. I refuse to be smacked again, so I drop my guard, lower my eyelashes enough to distract, and turn my voice a shade breathy, stepping right into Carver. “With an offer like that, how can I refuse?”
He gapes at me. Clearly, my reciprocating was the last thing he expected. I whip a dagger from my belt and plant it at his groin, pricking just enough to make him yelp. Carver freezes.
I cant my head, saying coolly, “I haven’t been spanked much because I do the spanking.”
Beta Sinta laughs, startling the birds in the branches above. “Carver,” he says. “She just handed you your balls.”
Carver grins. “That’s all right, as long as I get to keep them.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. Carver takes advantage of my distraction and sweeps my feet out from under me. I land on my side, a rock digging into my hip. He leans over, maybe to help me up, but I twist and kick him in the jaw. Not too hard, but hard enough. He reels back, and I jump to my feet, raising my sword. We spar again until he disarms me, sending my weapon spiraling across the clearing. In a blink, his blade is at my heart. I leap away with a series of backflips and then pick up my sword again, ready.
Carver’s eyebrows fly up. “Where’d you learn that?”
“The circus. When Alyssa was pregnant, I used to fill in for her on the tumbling routines.”