I don’t need your fucking approval.
Beneath me, my attacker gurgles loudly, choking to death on his own blood and fingers.
I’ve never killed a man before. I never dreamed myself capable of this type of violence; I thought I’d skate through these Trials by avoiding being killed, not by becoming a killer.
But something has unlocked inside of me, a monster I didn’t know existed. I’m not sure if it’s been formed out of the seething, quiet wrath that’s been building in me all day, or if this is some side effect of bonding with a bloodthirsty beast.
Instead of disgust at my own actions, all I feel is… calm. Horrible, stony calm.
That’s not right, is it? I shouldn’t feel calm. I should feel…anything.
What kind of horror is this place making me into?
When I finally find my sister again, will she even be able to recognize me?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
There should be a manual for Rawbonds, printed fresh every Bonding Trials, each new edition including better tips and tricks acquired over the course of the training period.
My contribution?
The morning after gruesomely murdering another Rawbond,don’tget the eggs for breakfast.
I stare at them on my plate, shifting them around with my fork and thinking about brain matter and stringy intestines. Remembering the warm spray of blood and the strangled scream that I cut short.
The back of my neck is cold where my hair used to be. Last night, after I got back into the dorms, I went to the bathroom to wash his blood off me. While the tap warmed up, I stared at the woman in the mirror, once again filled with unreality caused by my own appearance. My hair is shorter than it’s been in my entire memory, the silver-white strands cut to a choppy bob, strands ending around the middle of my neck.
I shiver, still staring at my eggs as they grow cold on my plate.
If I’m being honest, it’s not just the violence that’s getting to me. It’s this feeling like I’m suddenly not myself any longer.Something strange happened last night, like someone else took over my body the moment I started to fight back.
Or maybe it was even earlier than that. Maybe the person I thought I was is still lying in my bed at home, borderline catatonic, and the person who managed to get up and drag her ass to the recruitment center is who’s really here right now.
Vicious and dangerous. Desperate.
I can’t shake the shiver of satisfaction I felt from Anassa. She liked what I did. I know she did. My head pounds from the constant effort of reinforcing the wall of iron between us.
Not to mention that I haven’t had a single moment to really think through the whole Lee—ugh, theKillianof it all. My heart still aches, thinking of him.
I close my eyes and see death at my fingertips right alongside the bittersweet image of him standing there in his finery.
“Meryn.”
My head jerks up. Izabel is staring at me. Venna looks even more concerned. “We’ve been trying to get your attention,” Venna says.
“Sorry,” I reply.
“Interesting haircut you have this morning,” Izabel says cautiously. Venna offers me a questioning smile.
“Oh, uh.” I look around the common room. Rawbonds from every pack lounge on the chaises and chairs, some of them clearly already close enough to drape over each other. “What, you don’t like it?” I ask to deflect.
Venna shrugs. “No, I like it. It’s actually a good idea. Shorter hair means less to grab.” She swishes her own short bob, as if to demonstrate.
Painful flashes of last night return to me. I keep my face still, unwilling to show distress.
“But we’re worried,” Izabel adds. “Yesterday was a lot. And now this sudden change. Are you okay?”
A lot. That’s the understatement of the century.
