“Our next caller is Cadet Beth Malven, Air Realm.”
A few rows down, I catch a flash of shiny black hair as Beth rises. Smooth. Calm. She walks to the mat like she’s headed to a lecture.
Weasel Senior lifts his head again. “And she will be calling...”
A pause. A smirk.
“Cadet Lyra Bloom, Air Realm.”
What.
The.
Fuck.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
For a heartbeat, I think it's a mistake. Wrong name. Wrong face. The echo of someone else's nightmare.
But then Beth steps on to the mat. She doesn’t look at Professor Strannt. Doesn’t scan the crowd. Doesn’t blink. She just turns toward me—and her smile spreads. Confident, almost kind. The kind you give a rabbit before you snap its neck.
My gut flips.
No, I don't understand. She's been training me, helping me. Why would she?—
The cadet beside me gives me a hard shove. “Go,” he mutters, like it’s obvious.
Air doesn’t move; everything in me clamps tight. Maybe she’s bluffing. Maybe I can talk to her, figure out what this is before it starts. But the look in her eyes—steady, cold—and I know. There’s no maybe. There’s no talk. There’s only the mat.
Beside her, Professor Strannt watches me stall, arms folded behind his back, his mouth already curving into something between a smirk and a sneer. He wants me to run. He’s hoping for it.
My eyes drift across the crowd before I even realise what I’m doing, scanning, searching. For him.Talen. I don’t know why—Lucien said he wouldn’t be back till next week—but still... My chest tightens when I don’t see him. God, I don’t even know what I hoped to find.
I get up.
My boots feel like they’re filled with stone. The blood’s drained from my face so fast the cold hits like a slap, but my back’s slick with sweat.
Don’t faint. Not now. Not before it's even started, I force in a breath, steady myself and walk down.
I just wanted to avoid being called, and if I did, I just needed to take them out without hurting myself in the process.
Now? Now I need a new plan. One that ends with me alive.
Beth stands dead centre as I step up on to the mat, her arms loose at her sides, like this is just another training session. Like she’s not about to try and kill me in front of everyone. Her eyes haven’t left mine. That scar down her brow catches the light—sharp, angry, and it’s never looked worse.
She knew every way to hurt me—because I showed her where to aim.
The words from mum's journal echo through my mind.
This was her plan all along. Beth didn’t just train with me; she studied me. Catalogued every weakness. Every opening. Now she knowsexactlywhere to hit.
Across the edge of the mat, I catch Lucien. He’s stiff. Tense. His eyes lock on mine—fear. But not for Beth. For me. He knows she’s going to win.
Professor Strannt limps forward, hands clasped. “You both know the rules,” he drones, weaselly voice cutting through the hush. “Once the bell rings, physical, magical—use whatever you like, but only one of you leaves the mat.” His gaze drifts to me.He lowers his voice. “I’d wish you luck, but we both know it won’t help,Outerlander.”
He steps back.
It’s just me and her now.
