Page 22 of Wild Bond

“I don’t mind,” I assured her. “I actually rather enjoyed myself today.”

Skye, who was now exploring one of the seating cushions in the corner, huffed loudly. She might as well have said,Speak for yourself.

“You did well.”

“Thank you, Councilor,” I said, not sure how to address her.

“Call me Gemma, please,” she smiled. “I only go by Councilor Naline when I have to.”

I nodded and we said our goodbyes.

Realizing my body wasn’t nearly as recovered as I first thought, I made my way back to the trainee barracks and crashed onto my bed. Skye snuggled up beside me, and before I knew it, I was sound asleep.

“Ithinkyou’rereadyto start training in weapons and hand-to-hand with trainees of your same age.”

It was a week later during my training session with Dembe that he made this declaration. I blinked in surprise, lowering the canteen from which I had just taken a drink.

But he continued without a response from me. “Obviously, they all have been training for several years, so you will most likely be behind. But you are not without skill, and though it will be challenging, I think in time you will rise to their level.”

“Wow, thank you so much for that glowing assessment of my abilities,” I commented dryly. “Don’t try to spare my feelings.”

He just looked at me. “I won’t.”

I snorted and took another drink. Skye was lazing in the sun off to the side of the practice field, and I could feel her amusement in the bond as well. She liked Dembe. She was in her natural form today and was garnering plenty of stares from the other trainees nearby.

“Your skill with daggers is unmatched,” Dembe said. “Or at least, it will be when you are at full strength, and your hand-to-hand skills are passable. You have a good foundation, at least. I believe training with the group you would have been with, had you bonded to Skye at a younger age, will be beneficial to you. It’s where you need to be.” He regarded me closely. “And getting to know some of the other trainees wouldn’t hurt, either.”

He wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t really been making an effort to meet the other trainees, aside from those in my hatchling class, as I now thought of it in my head.

“So, we will no longer train together?” I felt a small pang of regret at the thought.

That now familiar wide smile broke across his face. “No, we can still spar in the mornings, if you wish.”

I smiled back at him in relief. “I wish.”

He nodded. “Very well, then.” He gestured to the northern part of the training field. “They meet over there after lunch. You can start this afternoon.”

“Any words of advice?”

He regarded me for a moment, his tone surprisingly serious as he answered, “Don’t show any weakness. You have yet to prove yourself, and most of them have been training together for years. They don’t know you . . . and your untraditional beginning has already made you stand out, which isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

I nodded, trying to absorb what he was and wasn’t saying.

“It will be hard, and they will push you, but it will be worth it and help you become a better rider in the end,” he finished.

“Can’t you just wish me luck?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood a little.

He grinned and replied, “You don’t need luck if you have skill.”

I hoped he was right.

Later that day, I said goodbye to Skye as she flew off—Dembe had told me that I wouldn’t need her for this class—and made my way onto the practice field Dembe had pointed out earlier. There were already several other trainees there—waiting for our instructor I assumed—for I saw no one in the black training leathers of a rider.

There were about a dozen of them, a mix of men and women around my age, give or take a few years. And they were all regarding me with expressions ranging from calm disinterest to open hostility.

The hostility coming from one woman in particular caught my attention. She had a perfect statuesque figure and long dark hair that was pulled back from her pretty face. She watched my approach as if I had personally offended her with my presence alone. She didn’t say anything to me, but she did lean over to two girls beside her, who looked at me and laughed at whatever she’d said.

As I came to a halt on the edge of the group, I did recognize one face. Nesenya, the trainee who had escorted me—or at least attempted to escort me to the Exodus Ball, before we were waylaid by Councilor Varron—was standing off to the side as well. She regarded me with no emotion on her face as I gave her a small nod in greeting. Her expression didn’t change. So much for making a friend.

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