His mouth twitches. “This isourtime. I thought—”
“It still is,” I say. “Train all of us. Or none.”
“You’d help your competition?”
“They’re not competition; they’re my friends. And they deserve the same chance I’ve had.”
His eyes darken—the look that always steals my breath. “You know,” he murmurs, “I love it when you’re bossy.”
A ridiculous grin flashes before disappearing into a sigh. He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fine. But they’ll hate you for this.”
“They can hate me and live.”
His smile crooks into something dangerous. “I almost hope they do,” he mutters, then turns to address everyone. “Welcome to hell, ladies.”
Mariel winces. Seraphina rolls her eyes. Cassy only stands there looking grim.
***
The first day is awkward. Cassy shadows the wall. Mariel tries a joke that dies on the stone. I lose count of Seraphina’s eye rolls. Keiren is all command and gravity—no teasing, and not the slightest ounce of indulgence.
“Again,” he snaps, correcting Mariel’s grip on her blade with a flick of his. “A soft grip will get you killed.”
“And your tone will getyoustabbed,” she mutters back.
“Good. Now you’re listening.”
I translate where I can, pair people up, keep the wheels turning. They’re not soldiers, just girls with shaky hands and shallow breaths and courage anyway.
Day two breathes easier. Cassy partners with Mariel, and they spar with wooden blades, Mariel giggling when they miss a cue. The sound is brittle, but it still helps break the tension.
Seraphina insists on fighting me. We circle, all dresses and leather, twin blades and breath. She’s been trained—in fencing, most likely—and fights with all the grace of a dancer.
“Try not to cry when I disarm you.” She smirks.
“I’ll try not to laugh when you don’t.”
We end in a draw, but her training blade’s edge kisses my ribs too close. Keiren’s eyes narrow. I give him the tiniest shake of my head, and he lets it go.
On day three, we finally start to hit our stride, finding rhythm in the warmups and drills.
Then Keiren’s voice cuts through. “Fire. Seraphina. Again.”
We take our positions.
This time, she doesn’t toy with me. Lightning in silk, she drives forward with a vengeance. I block, pivot, answer.
Something feral glints in her eyes. She doesn’t want to win. She wants to break me.
I sweep her legs and send her down hard. Her blade skitters out of her hands. I can feel the line on my cheekbone where she’sgrazed me. My side throbs where she landed a shot meant to bruise. We stare at each other, bristling.
Keiren’s steps hit stone, fast and hard. He materializes beside me, glaring at Seraphina.
“Watch it,” he growls, his voice low.
Seraphina rises, her smile sharp as a knife. “Didn’t realize your precious Fire needed shielding.”
Shadows pool at his boots.
