Page 146 of In Violent Waves

They had switched to smaller weapons because of Lyra’s lack of muscle. Lyra was comfortable with daggers as she had used one in Atlantis, but she still was not accustomed to her legs, no matter how often Maelys made her use them.

Lyra huffed a breath and slung the dagger at the target. The hilt slapped against the wood target’s midsection before it clattered to the ground.

“Are you pinching the tip when you throw?” Maelys asked, shaking her head and rising to retrieve her thrown blade.

“I think so,” Lyra replied.

“She’s not,” Wilder called from the fence. He wrapped his arms around one knee while the other leg dangled.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

Ridge peered over at them, trying to gauge if they were quarreling or teasing. When Wilder started chuckling, Ridge focused back on the battle at hand.

Lyra stood with her hands on her hips and glared at Wilder.

“Are you going to help or continue with the unusual staring?”

Wilder rolled his eyes and hopped off the fence. With long strides, he walked towards Lyra, and her mouth dried up.

Such calculated steps, like a predator about to pounce.

It reminded her of him chasing her around the willow, and again at the seaside cottage. It made her throat burn with all the words she swallowed down.

He reached for her hand and turned it palm up to the sky. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, while his other hand touched her fingertips.

She had to strain to keep from trembling at his touch.

“Your fingers are damp,” he murmured.

“It’s hot,” Lyra replied, annoyed with his less-than-astute observation.

Wilder shook his head. “I’m trying to say your grip is slipping because your fingers are damp.” He reached down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and rubbed it on her fingers.

“Try it again,” he ordered, jutting his chin towards the target. “Square your feet and throw on your exhale—not your inhale.”

Maelys rolled her eyes and handed Lyra the blade.

“Do what he says—but ignore him,” she added, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lyra slid her feet further apart and inhaled, gripping the blade with her dry but dirty fingers. She sent the blade flying on her exhale.

The dagger sank into the target, at what would be a person’s knee.

Her eyes brightened upon hearing the blade slide into the wood.

“I did it!” she squealed, clapping her hands.

Maelys whooped and hollered with her, and the two females jumped up and down, hugging each other.

“No need to thank me. I only instructed you how to do it,” Wilder said, crossing his arms over his leather-clad chest.

Maelys reached out an arm and shoved him. He didn’t move an inch and glared at the dirty handprint she'd left on his training leathers.

“Imagine how much further along she would be if you would deign to help without being asked,” Maelys said with a malicious grin.

“Yeah!” Lyra said, whipping her head between the two of them.

Wilder turned on a heel and stalked back to his favorite seat on the stone fence. “I’m not getting involved. Work on her magic now.”