Awakening

[Michael Vellas]

Michael saw the briefest flash of fire in her eyes that spoke of danger as he lifted her into the air. His pulse quickened and hairs stood on end, the promise of retribution, of challenge calling to his own blood. He then closed his eyes. Dangerous in the case of a man, but he could not see what Morven spun. Perhaps he might sense it.

The first blow came unexpected, forcing a faint grunt as Morven's web battered his own. She had not compared strength with other women, apparently, but it was interesting to note that however strong she was, it seemed that it at least partially translated. It was good to know at least one thing was similar.

The next blow was less of a scythe and more of a scalpel, parting his web without warning. His eyes darted open, impressed at the precision of the cut. Few men could do that to him, and never a second time unless caught by surprise. He gazed at her triumphant grin with a new layer of respect.

"I don't suppose the fact that I technically have all of your meals made counts?" he asked with a whisper of his own smile. "Very well then, dinner it shall be."

His smile widened a fraction, although it was almost impossible to tell. "And Morven. Try not to scare my men too much."