Read Online The Crimson Claymore by Craig A. Price Jr. - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Craig A. Price Jr.
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relieved but still didn’t attempt to make a move. Her blazing silvery eyes watered and pleaded with Searon.
“Some, still I have yet to learn your name.” His hand vibrated slightly from the pressure his grip sustained on his claymore’s hilt.
“Arria.” She masked a smirk that was far from innocent. “And yours?”
“Searon,” he avoided her eyes that now seemed to be boring deeper into his, almost luring him to her. However, looking at her body now didn’t help matters much.
“If you don’t mind, I would like some alone time with my lovely sister.” Her eyes seemed to glow slightly at the end of her sentence.
Searon looked away from her eyes again and fought the urge to do exactly as she asked. There seemed to be a power lingering from her to him, and he wished for nothing but to please her. He felt the urge to bow to her there and ask her for guidance on her bidding. Shaking such thoughts from his head, he held firm.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that; forfeit her now, or prepare to fight.”
“Mmmm…you would make a good pet. I now understand why my sister likes you so.”
She tossed Starlyn into a tree, knocking the kheshlar out before unsheathing a large flamberge from her scabbard. The blade glistened purplish black in the light, and she held it steady, flaunting the black diamonds encrusted in its hilt. Searon held his claymore high, now noticing the crimson glow that surrounded his blade.
Arria rushed at him, delivering strong offensive blows that took Searon aback as he hurriedly maneuvered to defend. Each strike of her wavy flamberge against his thick claymore was deadly, as she was able to slide her weapon farther down his blade toward his hilt. He jumped back and spun, thrusting his claymore at an upward angle toward her face, only to be deflected. The curves on her flamberge were able to catch his claymore between grooves, slowing his assault. Vibrations ran through his claymore that disconcerted him and began to make his hands feel numb.
It was clear to him that her skill outweighed his, and adding her unusual weapon choice, he fell back. Ideas tried to push through his head, but he came up blank. There was nothing in his mind that he could do to outsmart the corrupted kheshlar.
In a blind haze, she rushed at him with a tackle that caught him off guard, and they both tumbled to the ground. He fought to push his blade up, but her body kept it lowered. She let go of her flamberge for a moment to thrust her right fist into his face—a blow that held enough bite to make his head spin. Biting his lip, his eyes blazed in fury as he continued to fight to free his weapon. When the two finally stopped sliding across the cold dirt, Searon rolled out of her grasp quickly to grab his claymore. In an instant, she was up in front of him with a dagger in her left hand that sliced through the top of his right gauntlet, causing him to drop his weapon.
He took a step back, rattling his mind for a way to get his weapon back safely when she lurched forward with a slice across his left cheek with her curved dagger. Blood dripped down his face, and he held his hand to it for an instant, feeling the flows running down his cheeks. His teeth bared, and he clenched his fists, preparing to not go down without a fight.
Her eyes met his, and all his thoughts suddenly vanished. He stared into her gunmetal eyes that lit with such intensity and power that he nearly forgot his own name. His claymore that lay not a pace in front of him vanished from his mind, as did Starlyn, and it was only her. Arria. She is so beautiful, I am not worthy. Thoughts of ecstasy traveled in flows through his mind with hundreds of different outcomes if the two of them touched. None involved death; well, at least not at first. He imagined a black widow circling a web and waiting patiently for her prey. A male widow came into view, and the two locked in a moment of passion. The two arachnids were lost through the spinning of silk and dance
“Some, still I have yet to learn your name.” His hand vibrated slightly from the pressure his grip sustained on his claymore’s hilt.
“Arria.” She masked a smirk that was far from innocent. “And yours?”
“Searon,” he avoided her eyes that now seemed to be boring deeper into his, almost luring him to her. However, looking at her body now didn’t help matters much.
“If you don’t mind, I would like some alone time with my lovely sister.” Her eyes seemed to glow slightly at the end of her sentence.
Searon looked away from her eyes again and fought the urge to do exactly as she asked. There seemed to be a power lingering from her to him, and he wished for nothing but to please her. He felt the urge to bow to her there and ask her for guidance on her bidding. Shaking such thoughts from his head, he held firm.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that; forfeit her now, or prepare to fight.”
“Mmmm…you would make a good pet. I now understand why my sister likes you so.”
She tossed Starlyn into a tree, knocking the kheshlar out before unsheathing a large flamberge from her scabbard. The blade glistened purplish black in the light, and she held it steady, flaunting the black diamonds encrusted in its hilt. Searon held his claymore high, now noticing the crimson glow that surrounded his blade.
Arria rushed at him, delivering strong offensive blows that took Searon aback as he hurriedly maneuvered to defend. Each strike of her wavy flamberge against his thick claymore was deadly, as she was able to slide her weapon farther down his blade toward his hilt. He jumped back and spun, thrusting his claymore at an upward angle toward her face, only to be deflected. The curves on her flamberge were able to catch his claymore between grooves, slowing his assault. Vibrations ran through his claymore that disconcerted him and began to make his hands feel numb.
It was clear to him that her skill outweighed his, and adding her unusual weapon choice, he fell back. Ideas tried to push through his head, but he came up blank. There was nothing in his mind that he could do to outsmart the corrupted kheshlar.
In a blind haze, she rushed at him with a tackle that caught him off guard, and they both tumbled to the ground. He fought to push his blade up, but her body kept it lowered. She let go of her flamberge for a moment to thrust her right fist into his face—a blow that held enough bite to make his head spin. Biting his lip, his eyes blazed in fury as he continued to fight to free his weapon. When the two finally stopped sliding across the cold dirt, Searon rolled out of her grasp quickly to grab his claymore. In an instant, she was up in front of him with a dagger in her left hand that sliced through the top of his right gauntlet, causing him to drop his weapon.
He took a step back, rattling his mind for a way to get his weapon back safely when she lurched forward with a slice across his left cheek with her curved dagger. Blood dripped down his face, and he held his hand to it for an instant, feeling the flows running down his cheeks. His teeth bared, and he clenched his fists, preparing to not go down without a fight.
Her eyes met his, and all his thoughts suddenly vanished. He stared into her gunmetal eyes that lit with such intensity and power that he nearly forgot his own name. His claymore that lay not a pace in front of him vanished from his mind, as did Starlyn, and it was only her. Arria. She is so beautiful, I am not worthy. Thoughts of ecstasy traveled in flows through his mind with hundreds of different outcomes if the two of them touched. None involved death; well, at least not at first. He imagined a black widow circling a web and waiting patiently for her prey. A male widow came into view, and the two locked in a moment of passion. The two arachnids were lost through the spinning of silk and dance
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