Page 33 of Angel of Ruin

How many times do I have to ask myself the same questions?

I bury my face in my pillow, torn between my growing feelings for Sariel and my loyalty to my fellow humans. If he is involved in this deception, how can I possibly trust him? Or could he possibly be trying to actually help me?

I accused him earlier of the trials sabotaging us, but I never thought that the option of earning my wings — of surviving all of this — was fake, too.

That everyone here was using me until I have nothing left to give…

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling as I weigh my options. Should I warn the other candidates? But would they even believe me? And if they did, what could we possibly do against the xaphan?

We couldn't leave. That would ruin their fun. And I know they wouldn't take kindly to that…

Besides, if I do tell the other candidates, it will be the last push they all need to revolt. Things have already been tense, and the last thing we need is the xaphan to change tactics and dump us in the arena to get brutally murdered when they decide we aren't worth enough to keep up with this facade.

But the thought of continuing with the trials, knowing what I know now, makes my stomach churn. But what choice do I have? There's no way out.

And some foolish part of me wants to prove them wrong, to show them that Icanwin. They can't stop me.

As the first light of dawn creeps through my window, I make a decision. I can't give up, not yet. With a heavy heart, I push myself out of bed, preparing to face another day of deception and danger. But this time, I'll be the one with a secret.

I drag myself to training, my body aching from last night's encounter with Sariel and my mind reeling from the overheard conversation. As I enter the training grounds, something feels off. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

The first thing I notice is the new obstacle course. It looks similar to the previous one, but as I watch my fellow candidates attempt it, I see the differences. The handholds are slightly further apart, requiring more strain on already tired muscles. The ropes seem thinner, harder to grip. Even the ground beneath our feet feels less stable, as if designed to throw us off balance.

"Come on, move it!" Raxis barks, his voice grating on my nerves. I flinch, remembering his cruel words from last night. As I approach the course, I notice him eyeing me with a smirk that sends chills down my spine.

The magical training stations have changed too. The bracelets we use to channel xaphan energy seem to respond slower, requiring more effort to draw out even the simplest spells. I watch as Lena struggles to create a ball of light - a task she'd mastered days ago.

"Having trouble?" Sariel's voice startles me. I turn to find him standing closer than I expected, his golden eyes unreadable.

For a moment, I'm tempted to confront him, to demand answers about what I overheard. But the memory of his touch, the warmth of his body against mine, makes me hesitate.

I don't know how to act around him. But as usual, he seems to have sunk into the role of asshole xaphan no problem, like I mean nothing to him.

Maybe I truly don't.

"No," I lie, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Just observing."

He nods, his expression neutral. "Good. You'll need to be at your best for today's exercises."

As he walks away, I find myself analyzing every word, every gesture. Is he trying to help me, or setting me up for failure like the others?

I move through the training stations, my senses on high alert. Every instruction from the xaphan overseers now seems loaded with hidden meaning. Are they purposely giving us misleading advice? I watch my fellow candidates, wondering if any of them suspect what I know.

Even the water provided during breaks tastes off, leaving me more parched than refreshed. Is it my paranoia, or have they done something to weaken us further?

As the day wears on, I notice more candidates struggling, their movements becoming sluggish, their spirits visibly dampened. I want to warn them, to tell them it's all a lie, but the words stick in my throat. Who can I trust? Who would even believe me?

Sariel approaches me as I'm finishing up at one of the magical training stations. "Lyra," he calls, his voice softer than usual. "Come with me. We're doing some one-on-one training."

I follow him to a secluded area of the training grounds, my guard up. As we start warming up, I notice his demeanor is different. His usual sharp edges seem dulled.

"You're looking better today," he comments, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Sleep well?"

I narrow my eyes, searching for the trap in his words. "Fine," I reply curtly.

He raises an eyebrow. "Just fine? I thought you'd be more... satisfied after last night."

My cheeks burn, but I refuse to take the bait. "Can we just get on with the training?"

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