Chapter 10

Mark ducked as another lamp crashed against the wall behind him, sending a shower of glass and porcelain fragments like a messed-up confetti party.

They’d been at this for a while now, a chaotic dance of destruction that had turned the place into a war-zone.

Her punch came faster than he’d expected, and he barely ducked in time. The whoosh of air past his ear reminded him just how close he’d come to getting knocked out cold.

“You’re holding back,” she accused, circling him like a predator.

“I’m trying to survive, thanks,” he shot back, his chest heaving.

Her eyes flicked away for the briefest moment, her jaw tightening as if she were biting back words she didn’t want to say.

But she Isn’t wrong. He was pulling his punches, his guilt a constant weight, dulling his edge. How can I fight her when I’m the one who messed up?

He dodged and weaved, his enhanced speed allowing him to narrowly avoid her attacks, while she, fueled by a potent cocktail of anger and something that looked suspiciously like amusement, continued to hurl furniture at him with surprising force.

“I’m almost impressed you’ve managed to avoid getting hit this long,” she admitted, hefting a decorative urn easily twice her size.

“What can I say? I’m pretty light on my feet.”

“Oh, I can see that. You’re just a sneaky little shit, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he grinned, dodging as she threw the vase. “But you gotta admit, it makes things way more fun for you.”

Katrina’s laugh was low and smoky. “You really are just full of yourself, aren’t you? I’ll enjoy knocking you down a few pegs.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Keep talking, pretty boy,” she said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “And you’ll find out just how good I am at keeping promises. You’re lucky, most wouldn’t last thirty seconds against me.”

Mark couldn’t resist a cocky grin. “Well, you know I can last way more than that, don’t you?”

“That you did,” Her emerald eyes danced with wicked amusement. “You definitely have impressive stamina. I’ll give you that. Though I bet those fancy moves of yours got tired.”

“Maybe we should put that to the test.”

“Oh, I plan to,” she replied, grabbing a nearby lamp. “Just as soon as I’m done redecorating with your face.”

The lamp flew past Mark, who quickly ducked as it smashed against the wall behind him. She’s definitely enjoying this.

“Is that all you got? I was expecting more.”

“Then come get some. I’ll give you all you can handle.”

She launched herself at him, a blur of motion, her fists and feet a whirlwind of power and speed. Mark barely managed to raise his defenses, her blows landing with a force that rattled his bones. He staggered back, his enhanced speed his only salvation. Damn, she’s strong.

He countered, his own strikes measured, precise, turning the chaotic brawl into a lethal dance.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want me on my knees, gorgeous,” he gasped, dodging a punch that would have broken his jaw.

Katrina snarled, her attacks becoming even more ferocious, abandoning technique for sheer brute force. Knees, elbows, headbutts - she used every part of her body as a weapon, her movements a blur of aggression.

“Keep flapping those lips, buddy!”

She punctuated her words with a wickedly timed kick that nearly sent him sprawling. Mark twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow, his instincts taking over. She’s not playing around.

Their chaotic skirmish continued on, the once stately sitting room now utterly devastated.

At one point, Mark tripped over a loose rug, nearly falling, but he managed to catch himself, narrowly avoiding Katrina’s follow-up attack, her fist connecting with the wall, leaving a sizable dent.

“Clumsy,” she’d taunted amusingly.

“How much longer are we gonna keep this up?”

“Tired already?” Katrina chuckled, her movements still fluid, her energy seemingly inexhaustible. “I don’t recall you complaining about how we worked up a sweat last time!”

“We were doing more ... enjoyable things last night.”

“True. But this is fun, too.”

“I wholeheartedly disagree.” Deflecting a wickedly fast jab. “Can’t a guy catch his breath for like, two seconds?”

Katrina simply arched one shapely brow before freezing in place abruptly. “Sure.”

“Really?”

“One ... two ... done.”

She lunged, her fist connecting with his stomach before he could react.

“Oh come on!” he protested, hastily reforming his defensive posture. “That’s just dirty!”

“Don’t hate the player, pretty boy! Maybe if you could keep up, I wouldn’t need to hustle your ass!”

There was this mischievous spark in her eyes. Certain roguish charm. He remembered Ria’s words: These bonds ... they come with responsibilities.

He knew, with a sudden clarity, that this wasn’t a fight he could win, not like this.

His momentary distraction cost him as she managed to slip past his guard and sweep his legs out from under him in one fluid motion.

“I win,” she purred, straddling him, her full lips curving into a smug smirk. “I haven’t had a visitor in a while. Are you ready for some ... hospitality?”

“Somehow I get the feeling you’re not really the doting hostess type.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow “And just what type do I come across as then, hmm?”

“Selfish, for starters. Narcissistic. Brash.”

She whistled softly, her expression showing no sign of anger or offense. “My, what astute observations. Please, do go on.”

“Impulsive. Cocksure. And...” he paused for dramatic effect, “self-absorbed.”

Katrina chortled. “Well, I can’t argue with such an insightful critique. You’re not wrong in your assessments.”

“I’ve been told I have a keen eye for observation.”

“Is that so? Maybe you could lend me some pointers on improving my ... punching technique?”

“I, uh ... I could probably come up with a few ideas,” he managed in an embarrassingly husky voice. “Though I have to admit, your form is already pretty ... compelling, if you know what I mean.”

Katrina threw back her head and laughed a rich, melodic sound. She has a beautiful laugh.

She looked down at him, her gaze a mix of amusement and something darker, more primal. “Well, this has certainly been fun...” She drew back her hand, her fist clenching, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. “But I think it’s time we got down to the main event, don’t you agree, pretty boy?”

Mark said nothing, simply holding her smoldering emerald gaze steadily.

Her expression hardened at his continued silence, arm whipping forward to launch a vicious punch squarely at his face.

But he didn’t try to evade or even raise a defensive barrier. Mark simply lay there, unmoving, as her strike missed its mark - crashing into the floor beside his head with a resounding thud that echoed like rolling thunder.

“What, not going to weasel and dodge ... where did all spunk go?”

“Nah,” he replied evenly, despite his pounding heart. “I deserve this after what I did. If thrashing me makes you feel better, I’m happy to oblige.”

She chuckled a low, humorless sound. “You think that is going to make up for it?”

“No I want to...” he began, but the words felt hollow, meaningless. “Just go ahead. As I said I deserve it.”

Katrina stared at him, her expression unreadable. The anger seemed to drain from her, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze.

Mark could feel the heat radiating from her body, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the scent of her perfume, something wild and untamed, filling his senses. She’s...

Even at this moment, he couldn’t deny the pull, the undeniable attraction that had drawn him to her in the first place. His heart pounded, his body aching, his mind a chaotic jumble of desire and regret.

All he wanted was to flip her over, to pin her beneath him, to lose himself in the taste of her lips.

“Get lost.”

She climbed off him, turning her back, her shoulders stiff, and walked away, leaving him lying there, alone, the weight of his actions, his mistakes, pressing down on him.

He wanted to give chase and try to explain everything. Yet, a gut feeling held him back, warning that pushing things further could wreck everything. Despite his intense urges, he stayed perfectly still until she was out of sight.

Only once she was gone, did he let himself collapse, exhaling deeply.

Idiot. You did it again. He berated himself for his impulsiveness, for his lack of control. He was just grateful Lida wasn’t around - she’d never let me hear the end of it.

Just then, his phone rang, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Mark? It’s Alex.”

“Alex?” he frowned. “How did you ... get my number?”

“Ria gave it to me,” Alex replied gruffly. “Where are you right now?”

“Just running some errands. Why, what’s up?”

“A couple of my guys found something. Near the sinkhole. We think it might be Elia.”

Mark sat up, instantly alert. “Elia?”

“Yes and no,” Alex hedged. “One of my recon squads spotted him entering a small opening in that cavern area you were just in.”

“So that fucker’s still hanging around down there?”

“We think he’s looking for something. Something important. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be risking his neck down there.”

“That fucker...” Mark muttered under his breath, his anger flaring.

“I’ve got my guys searching for other entrances, other exits. We’ll find him, Mark. Just ... try to stay out of it, okay? We’ll handle this.”

“Why? What’s the plan? Wait for him to come out?”

“Pretty much,” Alex admitted. “Chairwoman don’t want to risk sending anyone else down there. Not after what happened to Nisha.”

Smart move, Mark had to admit. Those things are tough to kill.

If not for his strange surge of power, he wasn’t certain he could take on that abomination again. Their first encounter had nearly been a massacre despite having three other skilled mages at his side.

It was a veritable labyrinth down there- trying to locate and seal off every potential exit could take days, maybe even weeks.

Elia could slip away easily.

“I’m going back down there.”

“You’ve got a deathwish or something?”

“Look, that place is a damn maze, and waiting around isn’t going to cut it. Elia could escape without us even realizing while we’re scrambling to find all the exits,” he reasoned. “Who knows when we’d get another shot at this.”

“And what if you run into more of those... things down there? You planning on taking them all on solo?”

“It’ll be fine. I got a bit of an upgrade since then.”

He could practically hear Alex’s resigned head-shake through the phone line. “Ria’s gonna absolutely lose her shit...”

“I’ll handle her,” he couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “We’ll be fine. Just ... stay out of my way, Alex.”

And with that, he ended the call.

Mark stretched, his muscles aching, his knuckles bruised. Quite the workout, he mused as he walked through the chaos of the mansion. He winced at the overturned furniture and broken decor. Someone’s going to have a field day cleaning this up.

He half-smiled, half-cringed at the thought. I was sure she was going to thrash me. Not sure why she held back, but I’m grateful... though part of him wished she hadn’t.

He sighed. Maybe then she’d have listened to what I had to say.

His search led him through the chaotic rooms until he found her in the kitchen. She sat at a small table, an open bottle of vodka beside her glass, seemingly unfazed by the earlier chaos.

“Isn’t it a bit early for drinking?”

“Didn’t I tell you to get lost?”

“Yeah, about that...” he pulled up a chair, settling across from her.

“You’re doing a terrible job of it.”

“Okay, listen,” he leaned forward. “Can you at least give me a chance to explain? Just hear me out. I know I messed up, but...”

He launched into an explanation, recounting the events that had led to his abrupt departure – the fight, the bond, the overwhelming confusion.

Katrina remained silent, taking a long sip of her whiskey, her expression unreadable. It was like talking to a brick wall. She’s not even listening.

Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen – Julian.

He could see the futility of continuing his pleas for understanding, so he stood up, “Fine, I’ll leave now. But I will be back to try again.”

She didn’t reply, her gaze still fixed on her drink.

He left and answered the call, “What is it, Julian?”

“I got an interesting call from Crescent.”

“Yeah ... they’ve found Elia.”

“What did you say?” Katrina asked, her head snapping up eyes narrowed to slits.

Mark hesitated, his gaze shifting between the phone and her. “Uh, I said I’d come back to try and make you see my side. But—”

“Not that bullshit. On the phone.”

“Huhh ... They ... found Elia.”

Those emerald eyes bored into him with frightening intensity. “Is that true?”

Swallowing hard, he could only nod. “Y-yeah...”

“Where is that bastard?”

“There’s a network of caves, near the mountains. Some kind of abandoned mine, I think. That’s where he was holed up last time.”

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, already heading for the door.

“Wait,” he said, hurrying after her. “Why are you looking for him?”

“None of your business.”

“Maybe not, but ... maybe we can help each other. I want to find him too.”

“I don’t think so,” she brushed off his words and continued walking.

When she reached the door, he planted himself squarely in her path - arms spread to block her egress. “Just think about it for a second! That place is a goddamn trap fest. And Elia’s a slippery bastard - we might have a better chance of tracking him down together.”

Katrina simply folded her arms across her chest, fixing him with a withering glare that could melt ice. Her green eyes narrowed as if she were about to retort, but she paused.

Despite her wordless challenge, Mark held his ground - silently praying his reasoning had struck a chord.

“Fine,” she said, at last, her voice clipped. “But I’m warning you - waste my time again and, I’ll rip out that tongue of yours.”

“I want to find him, too,” he nodded. “He has a lot to answer for.”

She glared at him for a moment longer, then nodded curtly. “Great. Now move your ass aside.”

“We’re leaving right this second?”

“What do you think?”

“Uh ... It’s just ... I’m not sure how effective this outfit will be where we’re going.”

“What?” she looked down at herself, “Fuck ... Wait outside. And don’t touch anything, or I’ll make good on that tongue thing.”

“Yes ma’am.”

And then, muttering curses under her breath, she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

He had no idea why she was so hellbent on pursuing Elia. But if cooperating gave him a chance to spend more time in her presence, to unravel more of the mysteries surrounding her ... well, he’d take that risk in a heartbeat.

▲\▼/▲—∞—▼/▲\▼

Mark paced the porch, relaying the details of Alex’s call to Julian, who seemed more amused than concerned.

“Sounds like you got your hands full,” he’d chuckled.

You have no idea. He was still debating whether or not to mention his unsettling dream — the eerie mansion, the strange talisman—but Katrina’s arrival snapped him back to reality.

She was dressed in tight jeans, a white blouse, and a leather jacket, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.