“I'm aware of Voss's orders,” she cuts him off, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I'm countermanding them. Starved recruits make poor fighters, and we're not here to waste potential.” Her eyes sweep the cellblock. “This isn't mercy. This is practicality.”
When the assistant reaches my cell, he hesitates, looking to Selen for confirmation. She gives a slight nod, and he passes me a portion slightly larger than what the others received.
“Four-Three-Seven,” Selen says, approaching my cell as the assistants continue their distribution. “You showed promise today.”
I accept the food without comment, unwilling to appear too grateful. The bread is still warm, and the scent makes my mouth flood with saliva.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly, making sure my voice doesn't carry to the guards.
Her eyes meet mine, unreadable as ever. “The dragons need worthy opponents,” she says. “Not half-dead scarecrows.” Something shifts in her expression—the barest crack in her professional mask. “Eat. Regain your strength. Tomorrow will be worse.”
With that, she turns away, addressing the cellblock at large. “Ten minutes to eat, then lights out. Anyone found sharing or hoarding food will face consequences.”
As she strides toward the exit, I notice something—a smallmark on the inside of her wrist, visible only for a moment as her sleeve rides up. Some kind of tattoo, though from here I can’t decipher the design.
I pull my eyes away and tear into my bread, forcing myself to eat slowly despite my body's desperate demands. Across from me, Lira gives me a questioning look, her lichen-gray eyes darting meaningfully toward Selen's retreating form.
I shrug slightly. Whatever game Selen is playing, I don't understand the rules yet.
“Eat quickly,” Nyx murmurs from her cell. “And remember who showed you favor today.”
She's right. There's no such thing as kindness here—only strategy. Selen wants something from me, or sees something in me that serves her purpose.The question is: what?
Chapter 7
The horn blasts three times, jolting me from a deeper sleep than I had the night before, but still uneasy.I roll to my feet instantly, muscles protesting but mind alert. Around me, the other women stir more slowly, some groaning as their injuries from yesterday make themselves known.
Guards unlock the cells one by one. As I wait for them to reach mine, I slip the piece of bread I saved from last night's meal into the right pocket of my pants. I don’t know if Ellis’s cell block was fed by Selen. He might need it more than I do.
“Special training detail!” A handler reads from a list. “The following numbers report to the east corridor immediately: Four-Three-Seven, Four-Three-Nine, Four-Four-One, Two-Seven-Three, Three-Zero-Nine, Three-Nine-Four, and Three-Nine-Five.”
My number. And judging by the surprised expressions around me, the others called are Lira, Nyx, Sariah, Vex, Nessa, and a tall, completely bald woman, whose name I don’t know. We exchange wary glances as guards separate us from the main group.
“What's happening?” Nessa demands of a nearby guard, who responds by jabbing her with the butt of his spear. The blonde woman straightens at the jab, her wiry frame tensing like a coiledspring. Clearly not used to being on the receiving end of such treatment, as a former city guard.She’s the type of person I’ve spent my life avoiding.
“Questions earn pain,” the guard says flatly. “Move.”
My eyes shift to Vex, the lean brunette with ivy-streaked hair and a scarred face, and she catches my glance with a calculated look that borders on predatory.And I’m bundled with a former assassin for good measure.
We're marched down a different corridor than yesterday's route, this one sloping downward into tunnels of the Ironhold I haven't seen. The air grows increasingly humid, heavy with mineral scents and the distant sound of rushing water. Steam billows from vents in the walls, carrying that same sulfurous smell that seems to permeate the entire mountain.
“In,” orders a guard, shoving us through a wide archway into a cavernous chamber.
This washing area—apparently designated for the female cell blocks—is carved directly from the mountain's stone. Channels of steaming water flow through troughs and collect in shallow pools.
The group hesitates only briefly before stripping efficiently, each woman claiming a spot at the edge of different pools. I take inventory of my competition as I quickly scrub the previous day's filth from my skin. Nyx's body is a map of old scars and well-defined muscle, speaking to years of breaking up tavern fights. Vex moves with predatory economy, washing in precise, methodical motions while her eyes continuously scan our group. Sariah reveals intricate markings across her shoulders as she dips into the steaming water, her movements graceful despite her wariness.
“Five minutes!” a guard barks from the entrance.
We redress hurriedly in clean gray uniforms that have been stacked near the exit—identical to yesterday's but without the bloodstains and rips. I manage to transfer Ellis’s bread from the pocket of my old pants to my new ones, though I have no idea now if I will have an opportunity to give it to him. Lira catchesmy eye as she pulls her tunic over her head, revealing a glimpse of another tattoo across her ribs before the fabric falls into place.
“Any idea what special training means?” she murmurs to nobody in particular, tying back her hair with a strip of fabric.
“Likely nothing good,” Nessa answers, her voice low. The former city guard keeps her distance from the rest of us, but her eyes betray constant assessment. “Selection, possibly.”
The bald woman keeps her silence, eyeing the rest of us distrustfully as she pulls the clothes over her milky skin.
Vex finishes dressing first, standing with her back to the wall. “Selection for what?” she asks, her voice carrying the faint accent of the northern provinces.
