Page 18 of Saints & Sinners

I tried yanking free from his hold, but there was no give. “I’m here—” I pulled again, glaring up at him. “To—” Another yank, and at last, I was free. “Train.”

His gaze turned cold. “Right, and I’m here to sit back and relax beneath the lovely English weather.”

I gazed at the cloudy sky and its grey color, darkening the morning.

Hunter swore under his breath before grabbing my wrist anddragging me along with him. “Come on.”

“What? No!” I pulled against him, seeing that he was trying to take me back to where the dorm was. “I’m not leaving this class. I was put in here, and I plan on staying.” I’m not, of course, telling him that ImadeNadael place me here.

He stopped, and I almost stumbled into him as he turned to face me. His jaw tensed as his eyes scanned the training grounds. “You know you’re really doing a great job at giving me headaches.”

I smiled up at him. “Thank you! Joe tells me it’s a gift, and I like to think it’s better than what an Ascendant has to offer in terms of powers—”

“What will it take for you to get out of this place?”

It went silent between us, and I could feel the stares of people watching, but it didn’t seem to matter.

My lips pursed as I stared at his face and the anger brimming on the surface of his grey eyes. It almost looked like smoke. “You can’t make me leave.”

He grew more frustrated; his jaw about to pop. “Trust me, I can make you do anything. Just give me a couple of days, and you’ll see.”

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I thought about slapping him this time around, but before I could act on the impulse, a sharp voice cut through the tension, stopping both of us cold.

“I didn’t expect one of my best trainees to be such a talker.”

Hunter stepped away from me as we both snapped our heads to the side. Standing there was who I assumed was Azrael. Unlike the rest of the Celestials, he didn’t wear a robe or any combat gear. Instead, he wore a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit as if he had stepped out of a high-powered meeting rather than an academy for wannabe angels. The suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders while his high cheekbones and dark, slicked-back hair added to the intimidating aura that practically emanated fromhim.

“I was just informing the new girl that she is in the wrong class,” Hunter said while Azrael watched me. There was something unsettling in his green gaze, as though he was constantly assessing... constantly one step ahead.

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing and his voice a deepening sound of curiosity. “According to Nadael... she’s in the right class.” His gaze slid towards Hunter, and it lingered on him for a few seconds before he turned and walked through the mud as if he didn’t care whether it messed up his slacks or not.

It felt like I hadn’t breathed at all during that interaction, and as I looked up at Hunter, I could tell he was even more pissed than before.

Chapter Ten

She was a test. She had to be.

One I was failing at fast.

I watched as Lucas strode over, throwing me a glare as he took Grace by the arm and led her away. She glanced over her shoulder, looking as timid and unsure as she was the first time I saw her. But I knew better. Beneath that hesitant exterior was a fire—a spark that ignited every time she argued with me.

I doubted anyone had seen that side of her yet.

“First, she takes over our dorm, and now the Warriors?” Silas comes to stand at my side along with Brandon. Everyone is already starting to gather around Azrael, yet I keep my arms crossed, and my eyes locked on every movement Grace makes as she follows Lucas. “Man, the Celestials are growing weak.”

I didn’t respond. Neither did Brandon, as Azrael stood at the center, watching us all as if wishing to pick each of us apart or deciding who was worth his time and who wasn’t.

The murmurs of other Ascendants stopped, and all eyes were soon on him.

Azrael clasped his hands behind his back, his voice calm and steady, yet it carried across the field like a thunderclap, making Grace jump.

I smirked at that.

“As many of you know, the Ascension competition isapproaching.”

Silas and I quickly exchanged glances, preparing ourselves for another competition. The Ascension was held every three years, with the winner receiving goods and prizes. Silas won it last; I won it before that.

“The Ascension competition is a tradition,” Azrael continued, “A test of skill, endurance and morality. Nadael calls it a way to measure your dedication. I call it something far simpler: a reckoning. The competition separates the capable from the weak.”

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