Verveville's Curse

Chapter23

Willow’s pov

The sun was merciless that morning, pouring down on the courtyard like it wanted to set the world ablaze. Sweat already clung to the back of my neck as I adjusted the leather straps on my training vest, tugging them tight with more force than necessary.

Since Axel was nowhere to be found, Kael decided to train me himself. I wasn't nervous, Not exactly.

But my pulse betrayed me, because Kael stood across the courtyard, sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing as he wrapped his hands with the linen strips of a fighter. Every motion was unhurried, as if he knew I was watching him and wanted me to take in every muscle, every sharp line of his body.

And damn me, it worked. I was watching.

My eyes caught on his shoulders, the faint sheen of sweat already slicking across his throat, the slow drag of his tongue over his lower lip as he tested the tightness of his lips. Heat coiled in my stomach, uncoiling lower, deep in a place I tried not to think about.

Was I permitted to want someone like this? This much?

But the memory of earlier, his eyes burning into me across the dining table, the way his tongue had swept across cream, how they had parted around the cream at breakfast, how his tongue had swept slow and intentional. I licked my own lips unconsciously.

Kael lifted his head, as though summoned by my thoughts. His eyes found me.

And my chest tightened.

There it was..the same hunger I’d glimpsed before. Dark, raw,expressive. He tried to mask it with that rigid control of his, but I saw it, plain as fire.

His lips parted slightly, as though he was about to say something that could shatter us both. But instead, he snapped his wraps tight, straightened, and spoke in that low, commanding voice of his.

“Today, let’s see if you can keep up.”

Kael stepped closer, closing the distance between us with slow, predatory strides. He smelled faintly of smoke, something darker, something that belonged entirely to him.

“Your stance,” he ordered. His voice brushed against me like rich honey and Iron at once.

I obeyed, spreading my feet shoulder width apart, fists raised the way he showed me. But I knew the moment I did it wrong because Kael’s mouth curved in the faintest smirk.

And then he was behind me.

His chest brushed my back as he pressed my legs apart with his boot. His hands, which were broad, warm and calloused, closed over my wrists, tugging them higher. And I imagined his fingers inside of me, I closed my eyes tightly as his breath ghosted against my ear.

“Like this,” he murmured, his voice rough enough to scrape down my spine.

I swallowed hard, fighting the shiver that threatened to betray me.

“Better,” he said, his hands lingering a second longer than necessary before sliding away.

The loss of his touch was a physical ache.

“Strike.”

I turned, aiming for his ribs the way my instinct told me. He deflected easily, his hand closing around my fist, his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist just enough to make my stomach flip.

“Again.”

I swung harder. He caught me again. This time, he pushed me back, forcing me to stumble into the wall of his chest.

Heat seared me where we touched. For a minute too long, neither of us moved. His hand still gripped my fist while his other pressed against the small of my back to steady me.

Our eyes met.

I could feel his heart pounding against me, hard and fast. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, my throat, lower before snapping back up like he almost lost himself

And then he pushed me away.

“Focus,” he barked, as though the word was for himself as much as me.

But gods, the way his body moved. His shoulders flexing, his chest rising and falling with each breath. My focus should have been on the rhythm of the fight, but instead, I was having a war of control in my head

Pinned.

His chest pressed to my back, his breath hot against my ear. I froze.

“You’re distracted,” he murmured. His voice was low, almost rough.

The sound alone made my knees weaken.

I twisted, struggling against his grip, but he only shifted, turning me in his hold until I was face to face with him. His hand still clamped my wrist, the heat of his skin searing into mine.

No.

I swallowed hard, but the tension was unbearable. “Let me go,” I whispered, though the plea was weak. It sounded nothing like command,more like surrender.

He didn’t. Instead, his thumb brushed so slightly, so accidentally I almost believed it was my imagination, against the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse thundered.

My heart lurched.

The silence stretched between us. Then he stepped back abruptly, releasing me as though burned. His jaw tightened, the mask slamming back into place.

“Again,” he said coldly.

The command cracked the fragile heat that had strung us together, fury mixed with the ache in my chest.

Fine. If he wanted to play this game of restraint, I would break it.

We trained until my muscles screamed. Every correction of my posture was a new torture, his hands guiding my hips, pressing against my shoulders, fingers grazing my waist.

Every touch burned, every brush lingered.

And every single time, he pulled away first.

It drove me mad.

Finally, after another blocked strike, I lost my patience. “You’re not even letting me land a hit.”

The corner of his mouth curved. “Because you’re too distracted.”

The accusation cut deep, because it was true.

My breath caught, my fists tightening. “Maybe it’s you who’s distracted.”

For the first time, Kael faltered. His eyes darkened, heat sparking there so intensely that my knees nearly buckled.

He stepped closer…Closer. Until there was only a breath of space between us. His hand lifted, hovering near my face, not touching, though I ached for him to.

“You don’t want me distracted, Lylah,” he said, voice so low it was almost a growl. “Because if I stop restraining myself, I won’t stop at training.”

The air left my lungs. My whole body trembled with want.

And then, he stepped back cold, Controlled and Distant again.

“Enough for today.”