“Thank you.” He takes her hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
She nods.
I wipe my own eyes and try to hide my sniffle but fail.
Tilda hands me a napkin from the basket. “And now if we’re done with the serious stuff, I’m ready for some more play-by-play of the mating with specific descriptions of knots, fluids, and—”
I groan and hide my head in my hands as my Alphas chuckle and even Uaxin smiles.
29
Kyte
Master Rav thrusts her stick into the back of my thigh. Despite the pain, I do a back hand spring, then whirl and knock her legs out from under her. She almost hits the mat but uses her stick to vault herself up and over me, landing on her feet.
“Good.” She turns her attention to the next cadet as I trot over to spar with Jeren.
Ceredes and Gavros are already pummeling each other, but for the first time, I don’t sense any ill will between them. In fact, most of the cadets are scared or quietly neutral. I much prefer it to the open aggression I’d come to expect from the hierarchical nature of the academy. But even with this newfound peace, there are still outliers.
The Alpha Tarvan, or dicknose as he’s often called, seems to have allied with Ilwen, the two of them leading a pack of cadets who’ve made complaints about the circle to Master Harlan and others. That we’re dangerous or worse, traitors.
“Too slow.” Tilda appears behind Lana, who whirls and throws her hands up.
“How can I ever catch you, much less beat you to a pulp when you can vanish at will?”
“I don’t vanish.” Tilda looks at her nails instead of paying attention to Lana.
“Yes, you do!” Lana points. “You were there. And now you’re here. And I didn’t see you move.”
“Because you weren’t looking.”
“I can pull that trick, too, you know.” Lana huffs, then takes a deep breath and fades, becoming the shadow as promised by the Larenoan marks up her spine.
Tilda appears to still be inspecting her nails, but I can feel her tension. She’s a spider in a web, and Lana is the fly tickling each little bit of gossamer thread.
“She can sense you,” Jeren calls.
“Don’t help her.” Ceredes shoves his fist into Gavros’s face, but the big lump just laughs through the pain and tries to tackle the huge Bellatian.
“I’m not helping. I’m scolding.” Jeren wags a finger. “Being the shadow isn’t enough, Lana, you must be aware of your footfalls, your breathing, the light, the air, the scent of you. All these things can be sensed if not seen.”
“Listen to Jeren. Be mindful of every move you make.” I focus on her.
“I’m trying.”
It’s easier if I concentrate on school, on sparring, on the circle, on anything except my mother. When she died, our link shattered. But sometimes I feel it, like a phantom flitting across my path. A spark of thought or sensation, an emotion she once had that I can still feel. But it’s not really there. She’s gone. And now I have to preside over her funeral in front of millions on my home planet.
“We’ll be with you.” Jeren moves to stand beside me, close but not touching as we watch Lana try to evade Tilda.
“I know. I thank the Pillars for that, because I don’t think I could bear it alone,” I speak my heart to my brother.
“She was beloved. The peoples of the fleet will want to honor her and you.”
“I know.” I run a hand through my hair. “And they’ll want me to join the council.”
“Will you?”
“No.” I’m not certain about much, but that is one thing I won’t waver on. “I’m not leaving the circle.”
