Challenging the Dame: A Taboo Competition (World of Harta Standalones) by Jenna Albright

Author:Jenna Albright [Albright, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-20T22:00:00+00:00

4

The Rematches

T he next morning I lost. Badly. Humiliatingly so. I didn’t even see Elessia for most of the race, emerging from the tree line and finding her already relaxing at the finish line. For her dominating victory, she’d put forth the same request as our contest within the lake. Another race on the morrow.

She decimated me then, too. And again. And again. And three more times after that, completing a week’s sweep over me. On only two of the races did I come close enough to see her reach the finish line before me. To make matters even more humiliating, one race she called for removed our usage of magic, like the races back before I’d left for Granmore. Even for all my physical training and growth over these past three years, it still ended with another loss added to my streak.

“You’re really going at it, aren’t you?” my father asked at breakfast, a rare event where we woke at similar times in the morning. “What is this, the tenth day in a row?”

“Only the ninth,” I said, tearing into my breakfast hastily.

Seeing my mood plainly written across my face, my father laughed. “She’s really wringing you out for winning one time, isn’t she?”

“Indeed,” I said, swigging my water down.

“I’m sure she’ll eventually show a spot of mercy for you, my boy. Just hold out a little longer.”

“Somehow, I’m not sure,” I muttered, more to myself than my father.

“I’ll intercede if it goes on too much longer,” he said, chuckling. “We can’t have you away from the house all day every day, after all.”

I narrowed my gaze at my father, wondering if I was truly the one that he wished to see more at the house. He didn’t notice, and he prattled on for the remainder of the time it took for me to scarf down my breakfast and excuse myself from the table.

“Go get her, my boy,” my father cheered as I headed out.

Unfortunately, I’d no idea how to ‘get her’. I’d exhausted my repertoire of magic this past week. Shifting the soil beneath my feet and surfing up the hill, trying to undo my opponent’s wind with gales of my own, and all other manners of aggressive and defensive usages of sorcery I hoped to bog her down and stave off her assaults upon me. All failures. None showing promise enough that led me to consider exploring them further.

My victory last week felt like a dream. The bliss following it even more so. It was almost torture that I had won once, experienced the rapture possible under Elessia’s ministrations. If I’d never won, maybe my balls wouldn’t ache as painfully as they did, cursed by the knowledge of what could be – and fearful about never experiencing such ecstasy again.

“Good morning,” I grumbled at Alessia upon my arrival, my dour thoughts a pall over my manners.

“Something the matter?” she asked, picking herself up from the tree stump as I stomped up to the starting line.

“No, nothing. I’m ready for another race.

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