Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
I listen for any movement, and when I’m sure I’m alone, I take off the nightgown and quickly put on the pants. It’s a little big but at least there’s a leather belt so I can tighten it around my waist.
The top looks more like a corset, and it gives me a cleavage I never knew I had. I pull the strings as tight as possible and make a double knot so it doesn’t come undone while I’m training.
Digging the boots out of the cupboard, I put them on before glancing down at my body.
I wish I had a full-length mirror.
Sucking in a deep breath of air, I decide to braid my hair so it doesn’t get in the way.
Just as I finish the braid, Fleur appears in the doorway. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I say as I turn to face her. “How do I look?”
She glances up and down. “Good.” A smile spreads over her face, then she asks, “Would you like breakfast?”
I shake my head as I walk toward her. “No. Let’s just get the training over with.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Raighne?” she asks.
“No, he knows where to find me once he’s done with his meeting,” I mutter, determined to get the training session over and done with. “Show the way to where I have to meet Brenna.”
“It’s just over the hill,” She tells me, and as we leave my living quarters, she asks, “Did you sleep well?”
“I slept okay,” I answer, trying not to think of the nightmare.
I glance around the campsite, where everyone’s busy getting ready for the day.
Nothing feels familiar.
I wonder if Molly and Stephen have noticed I’m gone. Will the Calders worry?
The thought that most of the people in Steamboat Springs will die settles heavily in my heart.
We’re quiet as we walk toward a hill, and once we leave the camp behind, she asks, “What are you thinking about? That’s if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m just thinking how my sister is going to kick my ass,” I lie, not wanting to talk about my chaotic emotions. “Brenna doesn’t seem to like me.”
Fleur offers me an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
“Great,” I chuckle.” Someone to pick up my body once she’s done killing me.”
When we get to the field where the training will take place, Brenna’s already waiting.
“I’ll wait over there,” Fleur says, pointing at a tree.
As I walk closer to where Brenna is standing, her eyes settle on me with disdain, making my stomach twist nervously.
“Peace be, Brenna,” I greet her, hoping today won’t be too bad.
Her eyes drift over me, and without saying a word, she turns around and moves a couple of steps away while pulling a knife from the holster on her hip.
Knife? We’re using weapons?
Fuck my life. I’m dead.
Without any warning, she draws her arm back and lunges forward. All I see is the silver of the blade glistening in the early morning sun, and I hear the whistling sound as it cuts through the air.
I don’t even have time to flinch as the blade narrowly misses my throat by mere inches.
Holy shit.
I gasp, and as Brenna comes to a standstill, she says, “Today, you’ll learn how to hold and attack with a blade.”
So much for first learning the basics.
She throws the blade at my feet, and it pegs into the grass.
When I don’t pick it up fast enough, she raises an eyebrow at me before glaring at the blade that looks more like a cross between a sword and a massive butcher’s knife from a horror movie.
“You need to pick it up, idiot,” she snaps.
My temper flares hot, and as I bend over to yank the knife out of the grass, I say, “What the fuck is your problem, Brenna?”
“You don’t deserve the destiny of saving the chosen ten,” she spits the words out. “You’re weak, and you’ll get them killed.”
The nightmare flashes through my mind, and it keeps me from arguing with her.
“Let’s just train,” I mutter.
She holds her arms open and gives me a cocky smirk. “Attack me.”
I have no idea what to do, but figuring I can at least try, I lunge forward.
Brenna moves so fast, and for a moment, she’s a blur. She grabs hold of my arm and twists it behind my back, making pain explode in my shoulder and forcing me to let go of the knife.
When she moves away from me, I have to clench my jaw, so I don’t show any of the pain on my face.
“Again,” she spits the word at me.
My shoulder hurts something fierce as I pick up the knife, but before I can even attack, she darts forward, and with a high kick to my already aching shoulder, she sends my ass sprawling over the grass.
The bitch.
The pain engulfing my shoulder and arm is so intense I have to bite on my bottom lip to keep a cry from escaping.