Quinlan needed a moment before he could answer Ayame.
He lay sprawled on the bed of wind above the clouds, sticky and drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. Black Fang remained seated astride his hips, naked and just as breathless.
She'd stowed her clothes in her pocket ring during the night, piece by piece as they became too dirty to wear.
He looked up at his equally exhausted companion.
"That was one epic duel."
Black Fang looked down at him. A damp strand of hair clung to her cheek, and he found himself smiling despite the effort it took to draw his next breath.
"You're getting frighteningly proficient. And this is only your second battle..."
He let out a long breath.
"I might be in grave danger."
Not one to offer a proper declaration, Black Fang merely looked him in the eyes.
Yes, he was.
"Shower?" Quinlan asked.
She lifted both arms above her head.
