A woman can only handle so much testosterone fucking with her hormones.
That’s all the blip of attraction to Alistair was—my hormones throwing a tantrum from having two alpha males in such close quarters.
The hair on the back of my neck rises as something approaches, and I pour all of my focus into heightening my natural senses. They’re not as strong as they would be if I shifted, but I’m still not willing to risk my placement at Heartsflame for momentary safety. I close my eyes, fill my lungs, and let the world reveal itself.
A scratch of rock sliding down a slope.
Cracks of magic splitting the air.
Sulfuric fumes rising from the earth.
And the unmistakable stutter of a nervous heartbeat before an attack.
I turn on my heel and lash out, tearing my claws through someone’s chest the moment they step too close. They balk, stunned as their blood sprays across my body, and blindly grasp the torn shreds of their shirt.
“No, please,” they rasp, eyes wide. “I don’t want to die.”
Grabbing his shoulder to steady him, I align my claws with his heart. This close, it’s impossible not to see him for who he is: a scared, hopeful romantic who thought mating would be easy. That the academy’s trials would be fair. That our world isn’t as fucked-up as the rumors warn.
He swallows, and delicate cerulean scales on his neck reflect what little light remains. His damp skin is covered in superficial scratches, like he ran through a field of thorns when he should have been gliding beneath the ocean’s surf. None of us should be put in this position—forced from our homelands on flimsy promises of something better—and yet . . .
I plunge my fist into his chest before his survival instincts kick in and he struggles. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” I murmur, meeting his eyes. They ripple like tidepools caught in the rain as he chokes on blood. “It won’t be in vain.”
As the life drains from his eyes, I set him down gently and wait for the telltalesnapof teleportation magic to whisk me away to the winner’s circle. Seconds tick by. Someone shouts, and another person’s sobs are abruptly cut short. Growls echo from one end of the clearing to the other, and I quickly jump onto a boulder to scan the area.
One, two, three, four…
There are too many candidates left.
I lock eyes with an eagle flying overhead only to watch him be struck down by crimson lightning. His body transforms back into human form as he falls from the sky, unconscious as he hits the earth with a sickening crack of bone. The lightning-wielder screeches as she turns her next bolt onto a shadowed creature ambushing her from behind. It lunges, but before they collide, she disappears with a snap of magic. I search for her in vain and curse my fucking stars.
She gets accepted into the academy for a lucky hit whereasIshow advanced anatomical knowledge and get nothing but the cold shoulder.
Fuck that.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I go on the offensive, tracking down the creature the witch abandoned. It’s double my height and snarling by the time I approach, baring more teeth atme than I care to count. Thick, dark fur covers its body, helping it blend in with the shadows. When it moves, translucent magic curls off its skin and distorts the space surrounding it, the only indication that it’s not a natural beast of the wilds.
It’s an illusion for the sake of the trials.
With a roar, I charge ahead and barrel into its chest, striking with my claws. They rake through its fur and slice its skin, but that doesn’t deter it in the slightest.
It aims his wide muzzle for my head.
Razor-sharp teeth scrape my scalp, and I whip my head back in just enough time to miss becoming a snack. Pain erupts on my forehead as his fangs slice my skin on the retreat. Blood pours from the wound and drips down the side of my face. I grit my teeth and brace myself as my body threatens to shift, the primal urge to lessen the power gap between us and tear him to shreds blurring my vision.
Maybe that’s why the trial judges haven’t admitted me.
They’re waiting for me to reveal my shifter form.
I stare at the empty space over the creature’s shoulder. Someone’s watching me. A council member, other trial participants, Alistair Dire . . .Henever had to shift to be accepted into the academy; he was plucked from the simulation before Revyn and I had the chance to take him down. Revyn, too, was accepted before the latest round of fighting even began. I bet they even took whiny, friendless Veronica.
Throwing my arms out, I grin at whoever is watching.
Challenge fucking accepted.
After trading a few more blows, I slice through the creature’s neck and move on to the next. They approach in pairs once the first one drops, building into a predictable rhythm. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and blocks all pain from registering. The cut across my ribs. The gash on my waist. The bone-jarringreverberation from heavy punches and harder landings. I lose track of my kill count and take a step back to catch my breath.
Someone grabs me from behind.
