The Archer's Selection by Isadora Brown

Author:Isadora Brown [Brown, Isadora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Star Publishing, LLC

14

In a surge of frustration and determination, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I lunged at Pan, my grip tightening on the staff as I tried to catch him off guard. But he was quicker than I anticipated, effortlessly sidestepping my attack.

"Oh, dear mortal," he teased, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Is that the best you can do? I expected more from you."

My blood boiled at his taunts, and I renewed my efforts, striking out with the staff once more. But each time, he effortlessly dodged my blows, his movements fluid and almost playful.

"I hope you're enjoying this," I shot back, frustration lacing my words. "You think you're so superior, but you're just a coward hiding behind your powers!"

Pan's eyes flashed with something akin to surprise, the amusement momentarily replaced with a flicker of emotion I couldn't quite decipher. But it was gone in an instant, replaced once more with his mischievous grin.

"Oh, you wound me," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I suppose it's only natural for a mortal like you to lash out in the face of something you can't comprehend."

His words only fueled my anger, and I attacked with renewed fervor. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, he seemed to predict my every move, easily countering my strikes.

I knocked down a nightstand, the glass candle crashing to the floor.

He chuckled, the sound like a melody that grated on my nerves. "You have spirit, I'll give you that," he conceded, "but it's clear you're out of your league here."

Determined not to let his taunts get to me, I changed tactics, aiming a swift kick at his side. Surprisingly, it caught him by surprise, and for a moment, he faltered.

But he quickly recovered, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. "Oh, you want to play rough, do you?" he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Before I could react, he retaliated, knocking the staff from my hands with a flick of his wrist. It clattered to the floor, and I stumbled back, momentarily disarmed.

"Now, now, Wendy," he chided, "is that really how you want to play?"

Fueled by a mix of anger and stubborness, I refused to back down. I launched myself at him, my fists flying in a flurry of punches, but he easily blocked and parried each blow with almost effortless grace.

As the physical fight continued, I could feel the exhaustion creeping in, but I was determined not to let him see my weakness. Pan held back, teasing and taunting me, and it only hardened my resolve to prove that I was more than just a mortal girl to be toyed with.

The dance of fists and taunts carried on, the tension between us escalating with each passing moment. I knew he was holding back, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his motives than he let on.

Why would he want me to be his pet?

What did that even mean?

"Do you know who would want Seraphina dead?" Pan asked, his voice calm despite the intensity of our fight.

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