Page 38 of A Shadow of Betrayal

It wasn't like my other dreams, and I don’t think I can mentally handle another new thing in my life right now. Especially if other people can now follow me into them.

To keep my mind distracted until I need to leave and have my first lesson with Lennox, I decided to try on all the new dark-colored clothes and leather items I found on my bed to check the fit. However, it’s not going as planned. Most of this stuff has laces that I’m not sure how to do up properly, and I’m worried about knotting everything together.

How the hell does Sabrina make this thing look so good? I look back down at the shirt in my hands and scowl. It doesn't have any shape to it whatsoever. I side-eye the woman as she stretches by her bunk, touching her toes while reading some book she has propped by her feet.

Jesus, how is she so bendy?

I'm pretty sure I would break in half if I tried to do that.

“No, we have never been friends,” Jordan responds, looking at his own book as I set the shirt down and pick up the black leather piece that has laces. Is this the corset thing that makes her boobs look so good? Grinning, I wrap the leather around the white baggy shirt I put on after showering this morning and start to lace it up.

“The Demons were crossing over into our world through a tear in the Veil, and we were the answer to protect our world. Our whole purpose is to keep humans safe and make sure the Demons stay on their side of the Veil.”

“Okay, but how did Umbra Hunters come into existence?” I ask, shimmying my chest as I let the leather cinch my waist in, giving the girls a much needed boost. I grin and look down at my boobs, which look way perkier than normal. “And is there a reason we dress like this? What's with all the leather?” I ask, looking at the leather pants and fingerless gloves that also randomly showed up on my bed last night. “I feel like I should be going to a bad BDSM club, not fighting off soulless Demons,” I add.

“Demons are not soulless,” Jordan mutters, his eyes still on the book in front of his nose. My eyes catch on some bracelets he has on his wrist, the silver band holding several onyx stones and a few odd markings on either side. It looks cool, and I really want to ask him where I can get one of my own.

“What do those markings mean?” I ask, pointing to his wrist. Jordan looks at his bracelet, scowling at yet another interruption before answering my question.

“They are the symbols for protection. It helps protect against Demon venom and keeps you alert if you’re ever bitten by one. You’ll find similar ones all over our weapons. That’s how they actually work against the Demons,” he says before going back to his book. I arch a brow and look down at the pages, convinced there is some kind of porn or something on them, but only find the typical white page with black lettering.

“What do you mean actually work?” I say with a snort. “How can blades and arrows not work?” Without even looking up, Jordan sighs.

“Let me ask you a question: Why do you think we don’t have any guns around?” I look at him blankly, that is a fucking good question. I guess the medieval weapons just fit the mountain fortress scene?

“Tradition?” I attempt a guess after coming up blank.

“They are that stuck in a rut aren’t they?” he chuckles, “But no. All weapons can injure a Demon, but they heal too damn fast, making injuries from normal weapons useless. We put runes on ours to insure that it causes lasting damage and preferably death to the Demons that we fight against. Can you imagine having to etch runes on every single bullet? And more importantly ballistics are always loud, and given that one of our very best weapons is stealth, it makes them out of the question. So we don’t even train with guns and explosives.” He flips to another chapter, done with his lecture.

“What the hell are you doing? Why are you wearing a T-shirt with your fighting leathers?”

Frowning, I look at the small square-shaped mirror that is hanging on the wall between our bunks and shrug. It doesn't look bad, so I’m not sure why he’s laughing.

I turn to my side and grin. My tits look phenomenal! Now I understand why Sabrina wears this as much as she does. Jordan chuckles and stands up, walking over, placing his hands on my shoulders, and turning me away from him as he quickly adjusts the leather on my back, then steps in front of me and tugs the laces tighter.

“Hey, I still need to breathe,” I grumble, fake wheezing like he’s tightened the laces too tight.

“This is to keep your posture straight and strong. You need to have a strong center in order to fight Demons,” Jordan informs me, spinning me back to look at the tiny mirror and pointing at the lines that run vertically through the leather corset. “This is called boning, we use it to help us keep our centers strong and muscles tight, plus, it helps protect against claws,” he adds, and I nod.

“Wouldn’t armor work better?” I ask, thinking about the sharp claws I have seen on the Demons, how they felt raking down my back, and shiver a little. Jordan snorts and grabs my shoulders, tugging them back so I have better posture.

“Sure, but it’s also ten times heavier and almost impossible to move in. Theo's mom has a few armor details she wears over the bodice of her dresses during formal dinners that look badass, but you don't see that often. And I’m pretty sure Elaine only wears them to remind everyone who she is.” My brows furrow at that, and I frown.

“Who is Elaine? I mean, I know she’s Theo’s mom, and I’m pretty sure she has Lennox by the balls, but why is she reminding people who she is?”

“Elaine is one of the purest-blooded Axfords alive right now. There are only two people in our records that have ever survived an attack by an Alpha-Class Legion,” Jordan whispers, looking at me in the mirror. “Elaine is one of them. Her skills are unmatched.”

“Seriously?” I whisper back, Jordan's words not matching up with the woman I met the first day I came here. Elaine Drakos is so refined and well-spoken. Her mannerisms were calm, but her presence was commanding. Almost like royalty.

Do Umbra Hunters have that kind of thing?

Jordan smirks and lets go of my shoulders, moving his hands down to my stomach and tapping right above my belly button over the leather cinched around my body.

“Yes. Don’t mess with Theo’s mom. She can kick your ass. Also, you really need to work on your core muscles. There is nothing here,” he mutters, and I bat his hands away.

“There is plenty there. You’ll be happy to know that's where I store my extra ten pounds from eating my emotional support ice cream. I can’t just let it go when it's stuck with me through all the hard times,” I defend and smile when Jordan rolls his eyes.

“Tighten and tone. That's your new motto for the next few weeks, babe,” he says, slapping me on the ass and making me yelp in surprise. “You want Lennox off our asses? You lose the emotional support stomach.”

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