Three wolves broke away from their pack and lunged for Mercy. I gasped when they fought with each other to get to her. Mercy gripped the glowing weapon, and a flash of light blinded me for a second. Then she planted her feet and kept her left arm outstretched.
“Ahh, Dawn Cleaver has chosen her,” Corvessasaid, sounding bored. “Said to have split night from day. It carries decent sunlight magic.”
“Why is Mercy standing like that?” I asked Cassian.
He looked at me like I should know, but how could I? They barely told us anything in the Dregs. I knew what the trials were, but not the entire inner workings.
“The first wolf to bite her arm will bond her. If she survives it.”
Oh… a bite. I hadn’t known that, but I guess it made sense.
In the snarling pack of three wolves, one was dead on the ground, and the other limped away. The victorious wolf, a gray medium-sized one, lunged into the semi-circle of weapons and clamped her jaw around Mercy’s wrist. The young Elite screamed as she was nearly brought to her knees, but stayed standing. The wolf held on, meeting Mercy’s gaze. Mercy growled at the wolf until the wolf bowed its head.
“The wolf has to submit to you in order for the bonding to seal itself. That was averyquick submission,” Cassian noted. I peered around, seeing other sponsors chatting with their initiates as well. The idea of a wolf having to submit to us felt backwards, but I wasn’t going to question things.
“Is a quick submission bad?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It just means the wolf who chose Mercy is weaker, low in pack rank.”
Pack rank? Submission? I was starting to get nervous now. The weapon choosing would be easy. That, I had little control over. But getting a wolf to submit to me?
Impossible.
I peered out at the group of wolves, the dead one just lying on the ground, blood pooling around it as if an afterthought…
There in the middle of the “pack,” that white wolf watched me.
His intense gaze made me uneasy. Every time I glanced his way, he seemed to be watching me.
The next initiate stepped forward and got a pretty powerful weapon called the Blood Drinker. It had some blood magic that sounded terrifying.
He then bonded a strong wolf, which took over a minute to submit to him, and nearly tore his arm off. Then it was number three’s turn.
The weapon named Soul Render chose him. He bonded with a wolf with reddish fur. They stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time before the wolf bowed his head and released his arm.
Suddenly, it was my turn.
Creator help me.
“Oh, this will be very interesting,” Corvessaannounced. She was acting somewhat like a game show announcer and comic relief, and it was really starting to annoy me. This was serious. Was she going to be like this during the trial? Was this entertainment for them?
“I wonder what happens if no weapon chooses her at all?” she mused.
Everyone laughed, including Cassian, but I now knew he was doing so in order to seem like he agreed with them.
I peered at Cassian, and he flicked his head towards the weapons. “Start walking,” he muttered under his breath.
I swallowed hard, stepping forward, and began to walk the red brick path that arced out in a half-circle.
I passed the first weapon, Whisper Fang, and slowed.
Please pick me, I begged the bulky mace with spikes hanging off of it. But not a glow, not a thing.
I passed the empty slots for the next few weapons and then stood before a small but beautiful gold dagger, walking ever so slowly past it.
Please, please, please, pick me, I muttered in my head.
Nothing.
