Page 25 of Phixmery

Everyone is already paired off, which is strange because they shouldn’t be able to make an even number without me. I notice some of the others in Craven’s wing are working with a few of the worse-off fae: the ones who didn’t win their match yesterday. Which should include me, so I start heading over that way.

Sergeant Verlice strides over to me, stopping my progression to the group with a crooked grin and a glint in his eye. “Cadet Solace, you’re with me today. Let’s go,” he sings as he moves past me, positioning us a bit further from the others.

He turns towards me, his mismatched green eyes raking down my frame in a way that makes my blood heat. I can’t help but stare at the scar that goes through his eyebrow, down the opaque eye and onto his cheek. The misty eye eerily moves with the other one, like it can still see, and maybe it can, it’s hard to tell. How did he get that? Fae don’t scar easily unless it’s iron. The rest of my thoughts flee as he moves towards me, circling me, and it takes everything in me not to snap at him. What the fates is with the theatrics?

“You have no muscle; you’re tiny, even by female standards. How the hell are you alive?” he murmurs. A calculating glint enters his gaze as he tilts his head. “It makes no sense.”

I bare my teeth at him. “What makes no sense? I thought we’re supposed to train. I’m not here for you to gawk at,” I snap, holding in my wince when I realized I just talked back to a superior.

He blinks at me before his eyes narrow. “You will do whatever I fates-damned expect of you, Cadet. You’re pathetic and wouldn’t last a minute on the front lines. Drop and give me forty, and then the fun will really begin, Little Mouse,” he grins.

With a huff I drop to my knees before beginning my set. Fucking power-tripping males.

Nero lands on the ground next to me. “Need me to take him out? Just say the word, Rav, and he’ll be blind in both eyes.”

I smother a laugh as I lower to the ground before pushing up again. “It’s not worth it,.I don’t need us getting our squad into trouble. We really need to get to the library tonight and we are already on dish duty,” I remind him, cursing Evera.

When I finish my set, I push up off the ground back onto my knees, but before I can rise up onto my feet, he kicks me over.

“Always be prepared for an attack. If you’re on the ground, you’re already dead out there,” he sneers.

I feel a pressure in my head and shake it off as I get to my feet and take a step away, assuming a defensive stance that Ember drilled into my head last night.

“Hmm, there may be hope for you yet.”

The rest of the lesson goes on about the same way: me on the ground in front of him, which has him grinning with a darkened edge in his gaze. Every time I think I manage to evade his hits, he comes at me from a different angle. I feel like I’m being toyed with. Nero has even flown at his head a few times, and that was the only time I even got a hit in, if you can call it that. My strikes do nothing; he doesn’t even grunt.

My hand subconsciously scratches my stomach, the burning sensation back with a vengeance. At this point I think I’m convinced I’m allergic to physical activity.

“Is that all you got, Little Mouse? Your damn bird is doing better than you are. Maybe you are nothing but a pathetic little null.”

White hot anger courses through my body and I react without thinking, throwing my clenched fist up towards his jaw with a bellow to go with it. His head snaps back and he glances at me with shock. His astonishment and lust seep through the air like a mountain fog in the spring.

He moves quicker than I expected, leaning down into my face, his nose running along the length of my cheek, causing me to shiver with unfamiliar heat unfurling in my stomach. “Maybe you got what it takes to be here, but you’ll never be a rider. Channel that frustration into keeping yourself alive,” he murmurs.

Just as I go to respond, Craven calls for the end of the lesson and Verlice winks before sauntering off to join his wing.

My head pounds and my body aches. I didn’t know it was possible to be frustrated in more than one way, but somehow Verlice managed to piss me off while my body doesn’t get the memo. What is wrong with me? Am I that damaged that taking a beating is what does it for me? All I know is that I better become a proficient fighter and fast, because these one-on-one lessons are going to be the death of me.

I felt my magick flare with that last hit, and that loss of control can’t happen again. My fist flexes as I try to shake out the pain. All I know is that Captain Verlice will ruin me if I can’t get it together.

CHAPTER TWELVE

MY GAZE KEEPS LINGERING ON Jesper attempting to train the female. I have no idea why he’s so obsessed with her, but whatever it is, I’m going to need to keep a close eye on him before it gets him into trouble. I barely restrain my wince as he knocks her down yet again. He’s playing with her; it’s like watching a dragon play with its meal before they feast. This may be worse than I thought.

Killian’s gaze meets mine and he gives me a subtle shake of his head before his gaze darts to Jesp and back—he sees it too.

Fucking fates.

Maybe it’s a good thing we’re leaving tonight for the front lines. We need away from this damn academy, even though we are going to be stuck doing one of the hardest and most dangerous tasks of all: searching for whatever weapon got Vathia to push the combined troops of Spirrix, Allondë, Imperset and Skyrivene back. Something is going on, and I think it’s more than what meets the eye.

We can’t have distractions where we’re going. We need to get in and get out. It’s supposed to be a simple fly-by and report back. But if the culprit is who I think it is, then I’m not passing up this opportunity to get more crucial information for our plan.

There’s also the fact that I need to meet with our contact along the way as well, and I’m not sure how Jesper is going to feel about that. This whole situation is a fates-damn shit-show. And if I’m not careful, everything could blow up in our face like shadowflame.

“Talyn?” a sickly sweet voice asks, and I inwardly groan. The only female that voice can belong to is Evera, another reason to be glad for getting the hell out of here for a bit. “Can I talk to you?”

I slowly spin towards her, keeping my expression blank. “What do you want, Cadet Gannon?”

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