You never said it, I replied. And the silence started to feel like an answer.
There was a weighted pause.
Then I’ll start saying it. Every damned day, if that’s what it takes. But the first time will be in person. Not like this.
I barely had time to process the pounding in my chest before Ferrula stepped up beside me, her massive frame already cracking her knuckles like she was hoping someone would try her today.
Jax followed, his axe already slung over one shoulder, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. “Ready to knock some teeth out?” he asked, more to me than Ferrula.
Riven moved into place on my other side without a word, her daggers already gleaming, her braid pulled tight like she meant business.
That left Tae, Naia, and Cordelle forming the second group to the left of us.
Then, as expected, Iron Fang stepped forward.
Perin was at the front, of course. His shiny crimson armor glinting under the sun like he’d polished it for intimidation. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze slid over me like a blade meant to wound.
I expected him to come at me.
But it wasn’t him that made my blood run cold.
It was the rider to Ferrula’s right.
A mountain of a man, taller than Jax by at least half a head, his frame layered in scaled onyx armor etched with strange, cruel symbols. His face was partially masked, but his exposed eyes were cold. Void of anything human. He wielded a broadsword as long as I was tall, and the way he held it said he didn’t need magic to break someone in half.
“He’s new,” Riven muttered beside me, barely audible.
Ferrula rolled her shoulders, but I saw it. The shift in her stance. The readiness to fight was still there.
But so wascaution.
Whoever that man was… he wasn’t here to train.
He was here tohurt.
Perin caught my eye from across the training ring, the smirk already curling at the edge of his lips.
He winked.
“I hope you like playing with Dermith,” he said casually, rolling his shoulders in that slow, practiced way that told me he was already winding up for a fight. “His nickname in Dirian isthe Slayer.”
I frowned, gaze flicking to the towering man standing across from Ferrula, his black-on-black armor already gleaming like blood-wet obsidian. The Slayer.Wonderful.
Perin leaned in just slightly. “But I think Ferrula and him have met. He’s our new prospect. What do you think. Maybe he’ll earn his pendant today?”
I glanced at Ferrula.
She had murder in her eyes.
Absolute, seething rage, tempered only by the fact that she was already picturing exactly how she’d dismantle him.
“Ferr,” I said carefully, “are you okay?”
Her lips curled in a feral grin. “I’ve waited five years for this rematch.”
That made my blood run cold.
She rolled her shoulders with a predator’s grace, her hand flexing once around the hilt of her blade. “While I doubt he’ll bond a dragon, I feel it’s mydutyto ensure he realizes he doesn’t belong herebeforehe goes fishing for a pendant.”
