Page 22 of Angel of Ruin

11

LYRA

Ican't stop thinking about Sariel. His touch, his scent, the way his body felt against mine. It's like a fever dream, something that couldn't possibly have happened. But the lingering ache in my muscles and the memory of his golden eyes boring into mine tell me it was all too real.

I shake my head, trying to clear these dangerous thoughts. I can't afford to be distracted, not when I'm so close to achieving my goal. The next trial looms ahead, and I need to focus.

As I make my way to the training grounds, I spot Sariel across the courtyard. He's talking to another xaphan official, their heads bent close together. My heart skips a beat, but I force myself to look away. Something about their secretive stance sets me on edge.

During training, I catch Sariel watching me more closely than usual. His gaze follows my every move, and I can't tell if it's out of concern or something more sinister. When he approaches to correct my form, his touch lingers a moment too long. I flinch away, remembering how those same hands explored my body just days ago.

"Is something wrong, little nexari?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

I meet his eyes, searching for any hint of warmth or genuine care. But all I see is that same cold, calculating look he gives all the human candidates. "No." I can't keep the bite out of my voice. "Everything's fine."

He nods, but I can tell he doesn't believe me. As he walks away, I can't shake the feeling that he's playing some kind of game. Why would a high-ranking xaphan officer be interested in a human like me? It doesn't add up.

As I cross the training area, I overhear snippets of conversation between Sariel and another overseer. They're discussing the next trial, and I swear I hear the words "impossible" and "eliminate" being thrown around. My blood runs cold. Are they planning to sabotage us?

I want to trust Sariel, to believe that what happened between us meant something. But every instinct screams at me to be careful. He's still the enemy, still one of them. And I'm just a human fighting for a chance at a better life.

"Lyra!"

My head snaps up, Sariel's eyes trained on me as he approaches. I try not to let any emotion show on my face as he does.

"Let's train," he says, turning on his heel. I should have expected this with the way he's been training with me, but my stomach still drops. I'm not sure I can handle being this close to him right now.

Still, I follow Sariel to a secluded training area, my heart racing with a mix of anticipation and dread. As we begin our one-on-one session, I can't help but notice the way his muscles ripple beneath his shirt, the graceful power in his movements.

"Focus, Lyra," he barks, snapping me out of my daze. "Your life depends on getting this right."

I nod, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. But every time Sariel comes close to adjust my stance or demonstrate a technique, my skin tingles with awareness. His scent envelops me, a heady mix of something crisp and masculine that makes my head spin.

"Again," he commands, and I repeat the complex series of movements he's teaching me. My muscles burn with exertion, but I push through the pain. I can't afford to show weakness, not now.

Suddenly, Sariel's hand is on my lower back, gently correcting my posture. The touch sends a jolt through my body, and I stumble.

"Careful," he murmurs, steadying me. For a moment, his golden eyes soften, and I catch a glimpse of genuine concern. It's gone in an instant, replaced by his usual stern expression, but it's enough to make my heart flutter.

I shake my head, angry at myself for these traitorous feelings. Sariel is the enemy. He's one of them, the beings who've oppressed my people for generations. And yet...

"You're improving," Sariel says, interrupting my thoughts. "But you need to be faster, stronger. The next trial won't be easy."

I nod, swallowing hard. "I know. I'm trying."

"Trying isn't enough," he snaps, but then his voice softens. "You need to survive, Lyra."

The use of my name, so rare from him, makes my breath catch. I look up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, I see something there that makes my heart race. Concern? Affection? I can't be sure.

As we continue training, I find myself torn between my growing attraction to Sariel and my determination to succeed in the trials. Every touch, every word of praise or criticism, sends my emotions into a tailspin. I know I should be focused solelyon surviving, on winning my wings and changing my family's fortunes. But I can't deny the pull I feel towards this complex, often cruel xaphan who seems to be softening towards me.

I stumble away from Sariel, my legs shaky and my lungs burning. "Get some water," he orders, his voice gruff but not unkind. I nod, grateful for the reprieve, and make my way to the edge of the training grounds.

As I gulp down water from a nearby station, I hear Sariel barking orders at another group of candidates. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn to watch.

What I see makes my blood run cold.

Sariel looms over a group of humans, his wings spread wide, casting an ominous shadow. His face is twisted into a snarl, all traces of the gentleness he sometimes shows me gone.

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