Page 21 of The Fifth Soul

Well, there goes my intention of making her my friend. It’s obvious she has no inclination to do any of that. No point in dwelling on it, I have to focus on surviving this training session.

CHAPTER 6

BIANCA

Iknow things will get bad when the crowd opens for us as we approach. Their eyes take me in from head to toe. I’m being sized up, so I keep my expression calm and neutral, being sure to give them nothing. This is a test of sorts, I can feel it.

Roman’s expression comes into view as I step into the middle of the crowd. I’m learning to detest that face of his. I can tell he’s not over yesterday’s events by the sneer directed my way. Jesse stands next to him. The Lord of Wisdom’s expression is more curious than anything. From this angle, I have a realization. He’s their third brother. His eyes are the same shade of gold as Brandon and Roman’s. However, now that we are out in the light and I can fully see them, there is no mistaking his similarities to Roman. Jesse is the hairless version of his older brother.

“Here.” Alejandra hands me a bag.

I look inside and see similar training clothes to the ones everyone around us is wearing. She gestures with a nod to a changing room next to the bathrooms. I can see the sign from where I am. Without asking for further instructions, I head over to change.

I inspect the fabric closer once I’m inside. The feel of it is soft and quick to dry. The pants are a dark green shade with small Royal Force lettering on the edge of the waistband. It all fits well and feels comfortable.

I stare at myself in the mirror in the empty bathroom, holding the white sink with both hands and squeezing as hard as possible. I hate this and how nothing can be easy. How hard everything feels. After a minute of self-pity, it’s time for my pep talk.

I point at the woman staring back at me in the mirror. “There is no room for fear here.” I hold her gaze with an unnerving determination to show everyone in this forsaken castle what I am made of. If I can survive the streets of Fierno, I can survive it all.

“Are you done?” Alejandra looks beyond bored. She is leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

I’m unsure how much of that she witnessed, but I don’t have it in me to care. “What first?”

Alejandra looks and sounds completely professional as she describes how she needs to assess where I am for my training. Today will be a magic-free sparring session with a cadet of the academy. When we walk outside again, a significantly smaller number of people are walking around.

Other sparring sessions have broken out in two circles, only leaving a few people in the closest one where the brothers are still standing. I’m fooling myself into hoping they aren’t here to watch me. Getting my ass handed to me will be much worse with an audience.

I don’t plan on letting that happen, but the chances are high. I’m confident in my abilities, but I’ve never gone against trained men and women like the ones here.

Alejandra makes a straight line for Roman. She blurts something quickly to him before calling for someone in the crowd. A man about my age steps to the middle of the circle. Roman stops the man from walking any further with a single gesture of his hand.

“Roger,” Roman calls while holding my gaze.

A man about three times my size and fifty pounds heavier than me steps up. His shoulders are so broad that his shirt stretches thin across his chest, making the fabric a little transparent. I give him one look and gulp. The royal asshole is planning to make me pay.

Jesse’s face is blank from any emotion, but I can see the glimmer in his eyes. The asshole thinks this is funny. I could get killed by this monster of a man. Maybe they want to see me squirm or beg. The sadistic asshole doesn’t know I’d rather choke on my own blood.

Alejandra doesn’t look amused, but she doesn’t intervene. The smugness in Roman’s smirk lights me up from the inside out. I’ll show him. With that thought bouncing inside my head, I turn to face my opponent.

“Hand-to-hand combat. No magic,” Alejandra instructs, and the man across from me rolls his eyes.

I center my emotions and tuck them away. I focus on the man standing between me and the win. I begin my assessment. He is much taller than me and has longer legs, but he carries much more muscle than me. He is probably not as fast. His ugly smirk shows a few missing teeth, and I note he’s not a clean fighter. No one that looks like that is.

“Ready to dance, princess?” The man mocks me.

I scrutinize his stance and how his arms and legs hang loosely around his body. He isn’t even trying. He thinks this is going to be easy. The element of surprise will be my biggest asset.

“Get this over with,” I say, more to myself than him, but from the huff in his chest, I know he heard me. I step back and flinch away from him. I force my eyes to look around for help, knowing damn well I’ll find none.

He takes that opportunity to go for the attack, and that is all I need. His body moves faster than I expected, but far too slow for me. By the time he attempts to tackle me, I move out of the way and bury my knee in his ribcage. The only noise we hear is the huff of air leaving his lungs. He falls forward on all fours. There is no deafening noise of a broken bone. I would know, since I have heard it far too often in my life. I don’t give him a chance to recuperate before quickly jumping on his back. Once his chest hits the floor, I forcefully shove my knee on the back of his neck and hold it there snuggly.

"Soldier," Roman says through gritted teeth to Roger.

Roger is too busy trying to breathe to acknowledge his commander. I gather the man’s arm and twist it behind his back at an angle, so that a simple tug would take it out of his socket. Maybe not a simple tuck—since he comes with more muscle than bones—but I can put my back into it.

Roger doesn’t seem interested in testing the logistics of the potential tear. He uses his other hand to tap the floor in surrender.

The pride and joy I feel as I let go of his arm and step back is colossal. It’s also short-lived.

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