Chapter 80

Rosalie managed to win round three as well, but it was by an even closer margin than the first two. Hair-thin. Then, left with the unfortunate choice of having Delta strip her bra or panties off, she picked the less distracting of the two: her bra.

Round four went to Delta.

Not because Rosalie was distracted. Rather, Rosalie would have to concede that Delta must be a better fighter than first appraised. Which was a hard admittance to make. But the alternative was to acknowledge she was becoming distracted. And she wasn’t.

Maybe even it was luck. Rosalie couldn’t always win. It wasn’t that her eyes were sticking to inappropriate places, making her miss obvious tells to what Delta’s next move would be.

As her first bounty for a win, Delta chose Rosalie’s top. Exposing herself, even in a small way, to her aggravatingly confident teammate had almost as much of an effect as Delta’s own stripping. Rosalie’s performance for round five was even worse than round four, and Delta won again. So, Rosalie’s pants came off, leaving Rosalie in panties and bra, and Delta in just panties.

The worst part was the amusement in Delta’s sparkling purple eyes. The constant smirk, the quips and taunting remarks. Most of them focused on Rosalie’s blushing, not that she was blushing. Delta just interpreted it like that. The reality was that she had worked up a sweat. This was a spar. Of course her face and chest were flushed. Never mind that Rosalie’s stamina was far greater than to be getting flushed in a few quick exchanges. This was ... an exception. Somehow.

Her irritation at Delta’s teasing actually provided enough fire for Rosalie to focus for another round. She won match six, and Delta’s panties came off, leaving her naked.

The brief rallying effect dissipated.

For two reasons: one, that Delta was naked, and sure, it wasn’t the first time she’d seen that, considering their adventures in the second shard, but this situation was different. They didn’t need to be naked. The shard hadn’t forced it.

Secondly, Rosalie lost her weapon. The final rounds, as laid out by Delta’s rules, required the winner to pin down their naked opponent. It had sounded like a distinctly made up addition, but Rosalie couldn’t call her on it. Obviously, she’d never done something like this before. An expert on the rules of ‘strip spars’.

So, round seven. Where Rosalie needed to grapple a naked Delta, who still had her daggers. It was too challenging of a task. She lost two additional rounds, being stripped of her own bras and panties. The defeats were only the result of the weapon disadvantage. Grappling an armed opponent without taking hits was too difficult, even for her. It wasn’t that getting her hands on a sweaty, naked Delta caused problems for her focus. Not in the slightest.

Which mortifyingly led them to this moment.

“Remember, princess,” Delta said, tail swishing behind her. Rosalie tried hard to maintain eye contact. Though that wasn’t even what she was supposed to do; she should be watching her hips. They telegraphed movement most obviously. But ... it might actually be worse for Rosalie to look there. Too much to see. “Your girlfriend doesn’t want us to do anything without her,” Delta said, almost startling Rosalie, who’d, again, zoned out. “So keep control of yourself.”

“Keep control of myself?”

“Nothing too fun,” Delta confirmed, as if it had been a real question, and not a growled protest. “But it’s winner gets, so play hard.”

Nothing too fun. As if she was implying this final wrestling match could get out of hand. Maybe—maybe—Rosalie could admit Delta had a body that was mildly—mildly—distracting, but that didn’t mean Rosalie was remotely interested in Delta. That she’d get ‘carried away’ during this wrestling.

Really, the only possible way Rosalie would consider something like what Delta implied—intimacy—was if Zoey asked. Because she herself wasn’t interested. Not remotely. Not even slightly. She couldn’t imagine something less appealing than sleeping with this monumentally irritating woman.

But if Zoey asked, maybe Rosalie could be convinced.

Because then Rosalie could make it clear she was just entertaining Zoey’s wishes. Keeping her perverted girlfriend satisfied.

She wouldn’t have to admit anything.

“No reply?” Delta asked.

Rosalie started, again.

“Lost in thought?” Delta teased. “Distracted by something?” She raised her hands in the air and stretched, thrusting her chest out. Rosalie glanced away, instinctively, and Delta tutted. “I’m just stretching, princess. You don’t need to look away.” A grin. “Plus, I could’ve taken advantage of that, like you mentioned earlier. You’re lucky I’m not trying my hardest.”

Infuriated, Rosalie looked back forward. She was right. That could have been an easy advantage. Why had she looked away? Delta’s body wasn’t flustering her. “Can we begin, already?”

She raised her eyebrows. “If you want your hands over me that badly, I guess we can get going.”

Instead of entertaining the banter for a second longer, she stepped forward. “I’m starting.”

Delta settled into a fighting stance. “Hand to hand isn’t my strength, but not yours either, I’m taking it.”

“I’ve trained in all styles.” It might not be her forte, but she was more than capable.

“Of course you have,” Delta said. “Still. I’m bringing this one home. Ready?”

Rosalie began the fight, surging forward. The distance closed in an instant. Delta twisted out of the way, dodging her first attempt at a grapple. Despite Rosalie being the shorter, more agile-looking of the two, Delta was actually quicker than her, and by a noticeable amount. Her runes. As a bow-and-knife wielding damage-focused wayfarer, Rosalie would be hard pressed to find an opponent as slippery as her. Rosalie’s own specialties were with offense mixed with defense.

She steadied herself, but Delta’s dodge had put her in a great position to follow up. Her hands wrapped around Rosalie’s stomach, and—apparently more than happy to take this to the floor—yanked her up, then heaved and purposely fell, dropping the two of them. Rosalie hit hard enough to be stunned. Delta’s teasing, apparently, had extended only to the pre-match. She wanted to win, and was fighting like it.