The thought sobered her enough to think clearly. He had instructed her to channel her anger. She was going to take him up on his offer.
She remembered how some of the guards had taken down, or at least incapacitated, some of the unruly inmates inside the AMT. Maybe mimicking those moves would work.
She forced herself to relax, hoping she could catch Jaxton off guard. His hold loosened and Kiarra threw her weight against his arm, bending down to
elbow him hard in the stomach. He grunted and Kiarra was able to push out of his grip and dash halfway up the staircase.
Her heart was racing, but somehow, she’d managed to break free—and it felt pretty damn good. She couldn’t stop smiling.
She turned to let Jaxton know the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, but her words dried up in her throat at Jaxton’s expression.
Anger was not a strong enough word for it. But he’d been the one to give permission, and she wasn’t going to let him scare her again. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Kiarra lifted her chin an inch and said, “You’re the one who wanted me to do whatever it took, and I did. Next time, don’t underestimate me just because I’m small.”
Without a word, he started climbing the stairs. Every muscle in her body screamed to get moving, but she held her ground. Somehow she knew that if she didn’t stand her ground now, she never would.
He stopped three stairs below her, their eyes now level, and she noticed the unusual ring of gold around his iris.
Jaxton reached his arm out toward her, but Kiarra didn’t move; at least not until he brushed his fingers across her back and she shivered at the ticklish warmth. He voice was low, almost menacing. “How did you get these scars?”
Shit. In the heat of the moment, Kiarra had forgotten about them. The scars were ten years old and whatever pain she’d endured at the time had helped shape Kiarra to where she was today.
But judging by the expression on Jaxton’s face, he didn’t view them as nonchalantly.
Telling him the whole story would not only upset him further, but would bring back memories best forgotten, possibly undoing all the hard work she’d done so far.
But Kiarra was smart enough to know that Jaxton wouldn’t let her walk away without some sort of answer, so she said, “I would think it was obvious. I got them while inside the AMT.”
Something flitted over his face, and he drew his fingers away from her back. His green-gold eyes narrowed. “You’re under my protection now, but unless I know what we’re facing, I won’t be able to protect you. I need details, Kiarra.”
Hearing that someone wanted to protect her was new—foreign even. But, as much as she wanted to believe it, not even her own parents had fought to keep her. There was no way a man she’d only known for two days would risk his life to save hers.
Besides, information was all she had to offer. If she gave it up easily, she’d have nothing to bargain with later. “Then teach me to defend myself, and you won’t have to worry about me.” Jaxton looked unconvinced at her demand, and that irritated her. “So, will you train me or not?”
He looked at her for a long moment before nodding. “I will find out the truth, Kiarra, but right now I’m more concerned about you being able to defend yourself. Follow me.”
Jaxton turned without another glance, and Kiarra struggled to keep up with his long strides.
As Jaxton led Kiarra to the makeshift basement-turned-training-room, he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his right hand, wanting to punch someone. The AMT bastards had whipped her.
He’d only seen a fraction of the scar tissue on her back, peeking out from the straps of her sports bra, but the scars had been raised, and thick, which meant that someone had deliberately wanted to leave a mark. The pattern suggested more than one session.
Kiarra was providing Jaxton a closer look at what was really happening inside the AMT, and while it did nothing to help his blood pressure, the revelations kept giving him ideas of how to get the general Feiru public on DEFEND’s side. But he needed more information, and proof to offer. Kiarra wasn’t talking much yet, but he was nothing if not tenacious.
All he could do for now was to make her a little less vulnerable. While he would slowly get her into shape, it would be months before she could take an opponent in hand-to-hand combat. His best option was to train Kiarra on how to use her elemental magic.
Jaxton wasn’t a first-born, and had no latent abilities that he was aware of, but he’d worked for years with three first-borns who were highly skilled in elemental magic and he’d learned enough to get a novice’s training started.
He stopped on the mat in the middle of the room. Kiarra finally caught up with him, looked at him expectantly, albeit with a scowl, and said, “Well? What’s first?”
The stunt on the stairs must’ve triggered her true colors, allowing them to the forefront. Time would tell if they stayed front and center or retreated as soon as Kiarra was out of his sight.
They stood a few feet apart, giving Jaxton his first real look at Kiarra in nothing but a sports bra and stretchy black pants. He still couldn’t believe this tiny woman had knocked the wind out of him not five minutes ago. “Right. Size and muscle aren’t everything. You need to play to your strengths. Some people have speed, others quick reflexes. In your case, you need to learn how to control your elemental magic.”
She shifted her weight, her newly earned confidence fading. “What if I can’t use it?”
He wondered what had caused her sudden unease. “There will be times when you can’t, but we’ll get to that later. As long as your hands are free, you have a big advantage over others.” He glimpsed at the far wall to check his bearings. “Now, put one of your hands to the south, like this.” Jaxton demonstrated, his palm facing down, slightly outstretched.
He waited, but Kiarra remained silent and shifted her weight again. Clearly something was wrong.