My lungs burned after mile one. Thick phlegm and the taste of copper invaded my mouth, and no matter how often I spat, it always came back. Ichi, Ni, and the rest of the Tormentors were way ahead of us, and we barely heard someone call out mile two a few minutes later.
Two miles. Two freaking miles.
I wanted to give up.
Every breath felt like a battle. The air dried out my throat, making each inhale a struggle. My feet—encased in weatherproof boots—burned with the cold. My heart pounded in my chest, my lungs screamed for relief, and I was pretty sure death was near.
I wanted to quit. I wanted to cheat.
But I couldn’t.
My mom and Aspen were counting on me—even Oliver’s sister.
To lusceler or stop would be worse than any punishment. The raging storm inside my chest would consume me if I failed. If I gave up now, I’d be everything this kingdom thought I was—an unskilled liability placed in a squadron because the king said so, unable to rescue my loved ones.
I couldn’t stop.Wecouldn’t stop. Despite my legs begging to collapse, the light-headed dizziness threatening to overwhelm me, and our ragged breaths filling the air, we kept running.
Our pace slowed as we continued, and we lost sight of the Tormentors. Oliver fell back, looking like he was about to take a break.
I snatched his hand. “No stopping.” I regretted the breath I’d used for those two words. But they were as much for him as they were for me. The more we slowed, the more my body begged me to quit. If one of us stopped moving, I knew it’d be over.
He gave a weak nod.
The rhythmic crunch of our footsteps blended with the distant whisper of wind through the evergreens. The landscape stretched endlessly before us. With each bend in the road, I clung to hope that just around the corner would be a glimpse of the city—just one building,any sign of progress. We’d be halfway done. But with each turn, my legs grew heavier, my vision hazier. My hope dwindled.
Ahead, a burly male with orange hair and his wiry, brown-haired companion rounded the corner. A flicker of relief sparked in my chest. We had to be close to the halfway point.
They ran toward us, their footsteps steady and sure. I opened my mouth to ask how far we had left, but before I could speak, the burly one shot a sly grin at his friend. They barreled into us without warning, knocking the wind from my lungs.
We slammed down onto the slushy gravel. Rocks and ice sliced open my palms, the gritty slop soaking my clothes as I slid.
“Suits you right, Hell-whores. Moira should kick your asses out,” the ginger said, grinning as he blasted us with water.
I gasped as the frigid liquid drenched my back, my muscles seizing against the cold.
His friend snickered, and they ran off, heading back toward the arena. I curled my nails into my palms. My Infernus raged in my veins, itching along my skin. Cracking ice and a low, seductive hum pressed at the edges of my mind, urging me to retaliate.
But what could I do?
If I used my Infernus against them, I’d only cause more issues. I couldn’t risk revealing myself. Besides, they were part of an elite squadron, nearly finished with a run we could barely manage. They’d already proven they could put us in our place.
“I fucking hate Powers and their elemental bullshit,” Oliver snapped and stood, gazing down at his drenched clothes with flaming green eyes. He flung the water and grime from his hands and glared atthe two sprinting males like he wanted them to experience their worst fears.
I hissed as I pushed myself off the ground and joined Oliver, matching his glare as my body trembled. The music of my Infernus still whispered in my ear. Soaked through, shivering, sore, and unable to feel my toes, hands, or face, I let my purple flames coat my skin for a split second once they were out of sight. Feeling slowly returned—and my split second turned into minutes. I didn’t want to let the warmth go.
“Come on,” Oliver said. “Before I break the rules and lusceler after those assholes.”
I glanced up at Oliver’s scowl and flaming eyes. “Thought you didn’t like to use those powers.”
“I don’t. But carrot-top just poked some old wounds I thought were buried.”
I raised a brow, and he rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you on our long-ass walk. We’re going to be last regardless.” Oliver sighed.
I knew he was right, yet my gut churned at the thought of walking. Our pace would earn us nothing but slow suffering in the cold—probably why I hadn’t let my Infernus go, despite the risks.
But we needed a break. After his explanation, we could run again.
He heaved a breath. “After my mother’s murder and my sister’s kidnapping, I developed a habit of drawing them in a journal. Any memory I could drag up, I’d draw. That’s how I coped with their loss as I bounced between foster homes.” He shoved his fists beneath his coat, burrowing them into his armpits. “I never expected much from foster care, but after losing everyone I cared about, I thought I’dget some kind of reprieve. It’s too bad the powers that be didn’t feel the same.”
