Fine! You want me to fight? Then, I will fight.
I yank on the door handle. It’s locked. I take three steps back and envision myself eviscerating his door with my magic. I force that vision past the barrier he set around his mind, pushing and pushing until I break through it.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” he roars, reinforcing his mental barrier.
I wait a beat, hearing only silence behind the door. He’s calling my bluff. I raise my hands and take a deep breath. Flickers of electricity dance across my palms. Wind brushes against my clothes, and I blow a hole through the door, slamming it open with the force of wind.
I stomp into his office. I don’t wait for him to stand or acknowledge me. His icy glare follows my every move until I stop in front of his desk, hands fisted at my sides.
“I do not accept your rejection letter. Every year, you recruit twenty to thirty potential guards. For each group, you accept a minimum of five non-transitioned recruits. In the last group of recruits, you made an exception and recruited seven. This new group coming in, there are four. Over the years, some of those recruits didn’t transition until the second year of the program. One of those recruits from nine years ago didn’t transition until almost two weeks before graduation, and yet he passedeverything but the shifter course. I will not let you use the fact that I can’t shift as a reason to reject my application.”
“You’re going to pay for that door. Now, get out,” he sneers.
I tilt my chin and return his icy glare. “No. I don’t care if you hand over an acceptance letter. I will show up to orientation. You can ignore me or drag me out on my ass. I will show up every day to train with those recruits, whether you like it or not. I don’t need a ring. I don’t need a title. I just want to train with them.”
He leans back in his seat and crosses his arm over his chest. “Why? So you can pave the way for other females and shiftless recruits? I heard it all before. Unless you have something different to say, get the hell out of my office and find someone to fix my damn door.”
Electrical currents run up my spine and pulse under my skin. I take a steadying breath to rein in my anger and my magic. I spin on my heels. I rip off my hat and glasses, tossing them to the floor. I rip my shirt off next and unravel the bindings over my breasts. Standing there in nothing more than a bralette and baggy jeans, I expose the ropey scars down my back.
“This!” I shout over my shoulder. “This is why I want to be a guard! You said to stop playing the role of a victim. This is me fighting back the only way I know how, by learning how to protect myself!” I cover my chest with my arms and turn to face him.
His eyes widen, like he finally sees me for the first time.
“I need you to train me so the next time I kill some undeserving psychopath serial killer, I keep my eyes open!”
Chapter 33
My Heart Breaks
SHADOW
Seven Years Ago
The whiskey on my kitchen counter stares at me. I don’t want to drink it. I just want to talk to Jessica, dammit. This can’t be over. It can’t be, even if Anders never changes his mind and doesn’t give me my job back. It’s not as important as getting her back. I resigned from pacing to packing the few belongings I kept in my studio apartment.
I need to talk to her. A soft knock at the door brings me to a halt. Then, nothing. Fuck it! I stride to the counter. Maybe a drink will do me some good after all. Just as I grab the bottle and twist off the cap, I hear another knock. I set the bottle back on the counter and turn toward the door.
“Shadow?” Jessica’s raspy voice questions from behind the door.
I rush over and throw the door open. I want to grab her and pull her into my arms, but the sight of her stops me in my tracks. Her previously long, beautiful hair is gone. She now sports a short, spiky cut. Large, framed glasses practically coverher entire face. An oversized hoodie hides her feminine frame, and baggy jeans are folded several times over before they rest over her Converse shoes.
What the hell?
She gives me a tight-lipped smile and avoids eye contact.
We’re back to this. Shit. I rub the back of my neck. “Jessica?” I breathe, not knowing what else to say.
“Anders said to give this to you.” She hands me a flat box. I reach for it, never glancing away from her face. “I’ll see you on Sunday.” Just like that, she turns to leave.
After only a few steps, I shout, “No! Wait! Stop!”
She stops walking but doesn’t turn around.
“Princess…” I call out. “Look at me,please.”
She shakes her head.
“It doesn’t have to be this way. Nothing about you will change how I feel. Just turn around, and look at me, dammit!”
