"What's wrong, weakling?" Her voice carried mock concern. "Can't even take one hit?"
She lowered her hand slowly. Deliberately.
"I thought you were going to make me apologize." She grinned like she'd finally proven something she'd been waiting to prove for a long time.
Alaric pushed himself up.
His hand came to his mouth and wiped the blood streaking from his lip.
Elina walked toward him. Confident. Triumphant.
And stopped right in front of him. Close enough that he could see the satisfaction burning in her eyes.
Her finger came up and poked his chest.
"Now what do you have to say, mighty Glimor heir?"
The words were dripped with mockery. Her grin was still plastered across her face. Wide. Cruel. Enjoying every second of this.
Alaric looked down at her finger pressed against his chest.
Then his lips curved into a smirk.
"What?"
But before she could process...
Alaric moved.
His leg swept out.
Caught both her ankles.
