Page 41 of On Wings of Blood

So. No help from that direction then. Not that I’d really expected any.

“Fine,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll spar with you. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“What I think is that you’ve never sparred with anyone in your life,” Visha said, her pretty face distorted by a nasty sneer. “Or picked up a sword. Look at those pretty, delicate hands.”

I bit my tongue and decided not to tell her how very wrong she was. Let her find out on my terms.

Fae hands healed quickly. Much like vampires, I supposed. A useful trait. My hands might not be covered in blisters but they were more calloused than Visha could tell. What was more, my hands knew their way around a weapon or two.

I picked up one of the sleek, wooden shafts, balancing it between my hands and feeling the cool, smooth wood beneath my fingertips. It was lighter than I’d expected. I gave it a cautious twirl.

It felt right in my hands.

Visha was marching away. I followed her as she led the way to a sparring arena that had been cordoned off with thick, sturdy ropes attached to wooden posts.

A few other students paused what they were doing and glanced over at us curiously. But that was all I had time to notice. Because the moment I stepped into the ring, Visha lunged at me with lightning speed.

I barely had time to react. My spear came up just in time to deflect her strike.

The impact of Visha’s spear clashing into my own jolted my arms. I staggered back against the ropes but managed to keep my footing

Visha gnashed her teeth, stepped back, then reengaged, striking at me again and again, each blow coming faster and harder than the last.

Fuck but she was fast. My eyes could barely follow her but somehow my arms kept up, raising and blocking with my spear again and again.

Still, it was clear I was on the defensive. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep up the relentless pace. Visha’s assault kept shoving me back against the ropes over and over until I was gasping.

I had to admit, part of me had believed I’d be able to take her. Easily. I might not have been a vampire, but I’d been trained by one of the best fae instructors in Aercanum. With a pang of sorrow, my mind slipped back to my mentor, Odessa. She’d not only trained me in combat; she’d been my friend. In some ways, Odessa was the closest thing to a mother I’d ever had.

She’d died protecting me.

But Odessa was gone. I was alone. I was here. And I was no longer the best pupil Odessa had ever seen. Because Visha would have given her a run for her money.

I’d been cocky to even think I could compete in this class. I felt a wave of panic spread over me. I should have listened to Florence and left when I’d had the chance.

Visha’s spear spun through the air and swept low, catching me behind the knees and knocking me off my feet.

I went sprawling back into the dirt, the breath nearly knocked out of me.

I jumped back up just in time to miss her spear as it dove into the ground where my head had just been.

Visha’s eyes gleamed with triumph.

Rightly so.

I was losing and she knew it. It was just a matter of time.

My heart was pounding. If I hadn’t picked myself up out of the dirt, would Visa Vaidya really have speared me through the skull with the entire combat class watching? With Blake Drakharrow standing right across the courtyard?

For all I knew, this was the kind of behavior they allowed at Bloodwing. Hell, they probably encouraged it.

Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?

I flinched as the imperious woman’s voice echoed through my head.

Now is not a great time, I muttered internally as I slapped Visha’s latest blow away with my spear in the nick of time.

Are you really going to let this girl make a fool of you? Vampire or not, you are of royal blood.

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