Total pages in book: 295
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
If you can’t lie, distance yourself. But this is another thing I don’t have to lie to her about.
Dasha joins Sloane on the mat, her shiny black hair braided in a single line from the tip of her forehead to the nape of her neck. She’s petite and still has the pallor of a first-year who hasn’t seen enough sun, but she’s nothing close to the shade of green Sloane is turning.
There’s a slight crimson tint to Dasha’s lips that lets me know she had one of the frosted pastries from the tray I’d placed on her squad’s breakfast table before they arrived this morning. Now that I’m looking, all of the members of her squad have that same hue to their mouths.
Oh well. It wasn’t like I knew which one Dasha would eat.
“If you’re going to change your mind and say she’s going to lose, then don’t tell me.” Rhiannon shakes her head. “I’m nervous about this one.”
“Me too,” Imogen says, taking the empty spot on my right.
“That makes three of us,” Quinn says next to her. “She’s not just a first-year.”
“No,” I agree, noting that even Dain is watching from the next mat over. And to think, last year, I’d actually hoped I’d be in a relationship with him. “Rhi.” I lower my voice. “She’s not going to lose.”
Her gaze narrows. “What are you going to do?”
“If you don’t know, you don’t have to feel guilty about reporting it. Just trust me.” I slide my hand into my pocket as nonchalantly as possible and uncork the small glass vial as the two girls nod, each taking a fighting stance.
Rhi searches my eyes, then nods as well, turning back to the match.
The first-years circle each other on the mat, and I carefully turn the vial in my hand, letting what I know to be a colorless powder fall from the glass into the creases between my palm and fingers. I withdraw my hand in a fist, keeping it tight at my side as Dasha delivers her first blow, a punch straight to Sloane’s cheek.
The blonde’s skin splits.
“Fuck,” Imogen mutters. “Come on, Mairi, hands up!”
Someone screams from the mat behind us, and we all look over our shoulders to see a first-year staring lifelessly up at his opponent. Shit. Killing an opponent during a challenge isn’t cheered. But it also isn’t punishable. More than one grudge has been settled on these mats in the name of strengthening the wings.
I suddenly feel a lot less guilty about my plans.
The girls circle again, and Dasha kicks high, catching Sloane on the unmarked side of her face so hard that her head snaps sideways, and then her body follows, turning as she falls to the mat, landing on her back.
“That was faster than I expected,” Rhi notes, worry lacing her tone.
“Me too.” I lift my closed fist to my mouth and shift my weight, making sure that I look as worried as I feel as Dasha follows Sloane down to the floor. The pair is only a few feet away, so at least I won’t have to skirt my way around the mat. “Crouch,” I say under my breath to Imogen.
She drops without question. “Come on, Mairi!”
I lower myself, too, panic creeping up my throat at the look on Sloane’s dazed face as Dasha lands another punch, then another, and another. Blood spatters the mat.
Yeah, that’s enough.
I wait for Dasha to exhale, then open my palm slightly and cough. Hard.
She breathes in and gets one more hit.
Then she shakes her head and her eyes glaze over.
“Get up, Sloane!” I yell, looking her dead in the eye.
Dasha falls back on her ass, blinks rapidly, her head wobbling as if she’s been at the pub for the evening.
Sloane rolls to her side and plants her palms on the mat.
“Now,” I order her.
Anger fills her eyes, and she lunges forward toward Dasha.
Dasha’s fist curls, but her swing doesn’t make contact as Sloane buries her shoulder in Dasha’s stomach. At that angle, she had to have knocked the breath out of her.
Good. She only has another moment. Maybe two.
Sloane scrambles behind Dasha and then yanks her up and into the weakest chokehold I’ve ever seen. But hey, if it works.
“Yield!” Sloane demands.
Dasha bucks upward, her strength and focus returning.
“Yield!” Sloane yells this time, and I hold my breath.
Gods, if I judged wrong and Dasha gains the upper hand again…
Dasha finally drops her hand to the mat and taps twice.
My shoulders droop in pure relief as Emetterio calls the match.
“What did you do?” Imogen whispers without looking at me.
“What needed to be done.” We both stand as the first-years do, but unlike them, we don’t stumble as we gain our feet.
“You sound like Xaden,” Imogen says.
My gaze swings toward her.
“Relax. It’s a compliment.” She smiles. “Liam is immeasurably grateful right now.”