Page 33 of Shadow

Trapped and restless, I wondered how long I would be kept here and whether I would ever have the chance to negotiate, which was why I had come.

The white socks provided with my athletic shoes were thick and surprisingly comfortable. I was currently wearing one of several pairs of black yoga pants. I wasn’t sure if they were meant for sleeping or working out, but I had decided they were my new training gear. The bras fit perfectly, which meant the Federation must have sent my measurements to King before I arrived. There was no other way they could have known my exact sizes.

At least that solved one mystery.

After my search of the drawers turned up nothing hidden or interesting, I ended up sitting on the bed, twiddling my thumbs, my mind wandering back to the day’s training session. Being gangly and tripping over my own feet came naturally to me, but somehow, I had made progress on that dreaded half-ball. Boot said talking about my parents distracted me from worrying about falling, and I think he was right. He seemed to believe I could master the ball and anything else I set my mind to. I wasn’t so sure, but after today, I was willing to give it a shot.

It felt good to stand on that thing without toppling over. Who knew? Maybe tomorrow, I’d manage to walk and chew gum at the same time. Miracles did happen.

I glanced around the room, hoping to spot a book or anything to take my mind off the suffocating boredom of being stuck here. No luck. I made a mental note to ask for books tomorrow.

Needing to rinse off the sweat from the day’s exertion, I headed to the shower. I was starving, but since I had no idea when the next meal would arrive, I kept the shower quick.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around my head, I froze.

King was sitting on the bed, looking like every teenage girl’s fantasy come to life.

He had clearly showered. His dark hair was still damp, and he wore clean BDUs, a T-shirt, and heavy boots, now dust-free.

Meanwhile, I might be in a fresh T-shirt, but the towel turban perched on my head was not exactly my best look.

“I won’t bite,” King said when I lingered near the bathroom door.

“Is that a promise you’ll never bite, or just not right now?” I asked. My snark was fueled by an empty stomach.

“Not right now.”

His response was dead serious, and I instantly regretted my attempt at humor. “Are you here to explain what happened earlier?”

“No,” he replied flatly. “I’m here to escort you to my room for dinner.”

“I’d prefer to eat a quiet meal alone,” I said, trying to soften the rejection with, “If you don’t mind?”

King stood, turned his back to me, and strode toward the door without a word. As he opened it, he glanced over his shoulder, his expression smug and condescending.

“It wasn’t a request. Come.”

“If I stumble across an etiquette book, I’m pretty sure your name will be underWhat Not to Do,” I grumbled. Apparently, Shadow Warriors didn’t have a monopoly on grumbling.

King didn’t respond. Instead, he emitted a low grunt, which I took as his version of ignoring me.

The guards remained at my door as I hurried after King, struggling to match his long strides. His pace was brisk, and my legs, feeling like jelly encased in sausage casings after the day’s workout, could barely keep up. The shower had helped ease some of the ache, but this near-jogging pace was a whole new level of torture.

King didn’t even glance back when I stumbled, my hand slamming against the corridor wall to steady myself.

The only upside to the experience was that I was finally starting to learn my way through the labyrinth of endless white corridors. If necessary, I could probably find the gym or King’s room without an escort.

By the time King reached his room, I was trailing about eight feet behind, breathless and drenched in frustration. My snark was ready for battle.

“If you walked slower, a trip to your room wouldn’t feel like a death march for themerehuman.” My tone was sarcastic, and I knew I was pushing my luck, but King’s attitude seemed to bring out the worst in me.

“I don’t think you’re a mereanything,” he said, catching me off guard.

“You haven’t known me long enough, or you wouldn’t say that,” I countered.

“Why do you put yourself down?” he asked as he moved across the room and took a seat at the table, where a meal fit for royalty was waiting.

Drawn by the mouthwatering aromas, I took a step closer, only to check myself when I realized I might actually be drooling.

---