I yank up straight as the thought pushes into my mind.
My gaze darts to Aster, yet his gaze is unwavering, locked on Llyr.
I need to get out of here. Now. Clearly, neither of them can be trusted, and I refuse to be the centerpiece of their little game.
Panicking, I spin on my heel and flee down the long hall. With a glance over my shoulder, making sure no one is following, I race down the remaining flights of stairs so fast I’m dizzy when I hit the ground level. Sparring sounds like an excellent activity right now. The Void knows I need to get out some frustration.
chapter nineteen
STORMING OUTSIDE, I ALMOST RUN over Vilder, who’s standing right outside the door.
“Got class?”
He looks a little confused but shakes his head.
“Good. Sparring.” I grab his arm and haul him with me out into the training courtyard.
“It’s good to see you too.” He grins at me.
“Enough,” I say.
“All right, all right. Sparring it is,” he says, pulling himself free of my grip. “Believe it or not, I’ll come willingly.”
The white gravel crunches beneath our feet as we step onto the sparring grounds. A few other students are scattered across the area, practicing with staffs and swords, but there’s plenty of room.
“Daggers?” he asks as we stop by the weapon rack.
I nod. It’s the only thing I know how to wield. Removing the skirt tied at my waist, I fold it over my shadowshard, then grab two ofthe practice daggers. Vilder does the same. With blades in hand, we circle each other, carefully assessing one another’s moves.
“First blood?” he says.
I nod again.
“Not so talkative today, are we?”
He wisely remains silent under my intense stare.
He moves half a heartbeat before I do; he has an unnerving ability to anticipate my actions. With eyes locked, we spin and weave, our bodies as fluid as water, each strike part of a deadly dance. It doesn’t take long before drops of sweat are trickling down my temple and my heart is pounding like a drum, but it feels good to move.
Vilder is amazing with any weapon but is by far the best sword wielder I’ve ever seen. Whenever he practices with his twin blades, he’s a blur of motion, and even the best sword masters at the Arc struggle to keep up with him. I have learned that elen can have personal gifts that other elen or even C’elen don’t share, and my gut tells me that his ridiculously quick reactions are linked to a gift. Allegedly, it’s rare for elen to be born with gifts these days, but he already has a bonded wolf—another thing most C’elen believe to be a lost ability.
I push the world outside the two of us away, forgetting everything else as the world narrows down to the space between us, a flurry of strikes as we test the limits of our skills—or rather, as he tests the limits of my skills. I’m well aware he’s holding back. If he wanted to draw blood, he would have done that a long time ago. But I’m enjoying myself too much to care. Which is why I don’t even notice him until I hear his voice behind me.
“Let me.” He doesn’t wait for Vilder’s answer, and I can’t help but notice the slight widening of Vilder’s eyes as he sees Aster and how he yields without question.
“Of course, mi ne.” He bows and steps away.
Mi ne?That sounds remarkably similar to what Aster sometimes calls Nana. Void, even Casimir used that endearment.Mi na.I give Vilder aquestioning look, but his expression tells me to get the fuck on with it.
I turn to Aster. “You.” It comes out as a curse.
“Me,” he says, the corner of his mouth tilting upward.
He gives my outfit a once-over, and I'm acutely aware of how my leggings cling to every curve and contour of my body. How the blouse falls off one shoulder. I've never felt more naked.
“Looking good.” His gaze lingers on me.
Heat rises in my face, betraying my embarrassment despite my attempt to mask it with defiance. “Just because you feel bad, you don’t have tolieto me,” I snap. “I do not look good for a human, and I most certainly do not look good when compared to a Rean.”
