It takes her several breaths before she clambers to her feet. A snarl twists her face.
‘You’re not supposed to attack! Your instructions were to defend.’ She turns to Sebastian, who looks utterly bored with the dramatics. ‘Aren’t you going to say something?’ she demands.
‘Nocthare, twenty push-ups for disobeying instructions,’ Sebastian points to the floor and I practically gape.
‘What? That’s ridiculous! I saw an opportunity, and I took it. It’s not my fault she left herself open.’
‘Argue and I’ll double it,’ he threatens with a rise of his dark brows, his expression finally coming back to life as if the mere thought of punishing me has kickstarted something.
I bite back a slurry of curses as I drop to the floor.If Nicks says I can train, then I’m training. My earlier words ring in my ears as my limbs shake with effort. Why in thehelldid I have to go and say that?
‘Davis, your offence is shit,’ Sebastian scolds Moira from beside me. ‘Rein it in and focus. Your lack of control is the reason she was able to get in and strike you like that.’
Hearing Moira get reprimanded should give me some sort of thrill, and maybe on another day it would. But I’m too busy pushing through my set, struggling with the last five push-ups as sweat trickles from my temples and into my eyes. I just want this starsdamn class to be over. All I can think about is how I’m going to make it up the steps to my room later.
When I’m finally done, I use the hem of my shirt to wipe away the sweat and get back into position across from Moira.
I feel Sebastian behind me as he rounds the mat once more. His presence is heavy and consuming, wrapping around me like a vice.
‘This time, acolyte, you areonlygoing to defend,’ he orders in a low voice, and I feel his warm breath tickle the baby hairs at the nape of my neck.
‘And if she leaves herself open again?’ I ask, looking over my shoulder at him.
‘ThenI’llpull her up on it.’
‘So, I’m the only one who’s allowed to get hurt? How’s that fair?’
‘It’s got nothing to do with beingfair,’ he chastises, ‘and everything to do with being better than your opponent. Now face forward and do it again. You’re not stopping unless your legs give out on you.’
‘Sadist,’ I mutter as I turn away, finding Moira glowering at me.
‘You have no idea.’
FOURTEEN
My entire body is aching. My thighs, my arms, my back, my core. Even my toes hurt. My entire body feels like one giant open wound. We spent two and a half hours on that mat without a break. Not even a minute to sit down. Sebastian worked Moira and me so hard that by the end of training, we didn’t even have the energy to throw digs at each other.
I’m grateful for all the hours I spent training with my brother, because Moira was a fair opponent once Sebastian instructed her to stop letting her anger cloud her judgement. But I was better. She knew it, I knew it, and he knew it, not that he’d admit it. In fact, I’m quite sure I watched him write the number two next to my name and the words ‘tactics and strategy’.
My tactics werenota fucking two! For every jab Moira threw my way, I blocked, pivoted and danced out of reach – for the most part, anyway. A handful of the tender areas on my body account for the few strikes she managed to sneak past my defences. But I never stopped moving. I wanted to outlast her, outmanoeuvre her. I needed to. And I did.
He’s marking me down on purpose, I know it. Instead of letting it get to me, I’m just going to have to prove myself further. I’ll show him and he can shove his scoreboard up his ass with all the sticks he’s got up there.
For now, though, I don’t know how I’ll muster enough energy to get back up off the mat I’m currently splayed out on.
My chest is rising and falling with the rhythm of my rapid heartbeats. There’s sweat pooling in places I didn’t know I could sweat. My long-sleeved shirt was discarded about twenty minutes ago; it’s in a damp lump beside me. The tank top I had beneath it isn’t faring much better if I’m honest, but at least my back and arms find some relief in the coolness of the mat beneath me.
‘Hey, Nocthare!’
I blink away the bobbing black spots in my vision to find Lillian standing over me. Her face is stained with the flush of a hard workout, and her hair is sticking to her forehead. A few times I’d glanced around the room to see her on the mat with each of her students. Where Sebastian paced around us from the outskirts of the mat, Lillian was hands-on with her training.
‘Can’t. Talk.’ I breathe heavily. ‘Think I’m dying.’ More black spots pop in and out of my vision.
Lillian laughs. ‘Come on, I have just the thing that’ll help.’ She bends forward, extending her hand out for me to take.
I hesitate. This is the second time she’s offered to help me and again, I don’t know why or if I should trust her. But I don’t think I can get up off this damn mat without help, so I reach up and grasp her hand in mine, letting her pull me to my feet.
‘Is it a healing tonic?’ I groan as every muscle in my body aches in protest of getting vertical. ‘Or twenty of them,’ I amend.
