Page 25 of Shadebound
He snorted and flicked his wrist toward my band. “They only work in the arena. It’s a contained environment. You die, it yanks you back. Painfully. Like being slammed through your own bones. But it’s better than staying dead. So yes to killing enemies. But only in the arena.”
“Charming,” I muttered. “So it’s normal here? Murder practice?”
“Yeah. One of the five lessons we have is combat training. I’ve got a copy of the schedule you can have in the dorm.” He gave a low hum. “It’s not just initiation or a lesson either with combat. Every month, there are combat tournaments. The strongest fighters face off. Voluntary mostly, but determines rank—placement in the academy. I lead one team. The other isn’t worth mentioning.”
I frowned, recalling the shifter’s blue fire. And the way his body looked when I pulled him apart. “And all that fighting is just to test us?”
“No,” he said, watching me. “It’s also to prepare us for war. Every six months, a team of thirteen goes through the portal. That is the real test. Everything here—classes, fights, ranks—builds toward that.”
“Thirteen again?” I wondered what the obsession was with that number.
Or why it made me feel weird, seeing as that was how many horrid men I’d killed in my quest to find my sister’s murderer.
I didn’t like coincidences. They were for the foolish.
He nodded. “Classes are sorted by skill, not age. Top classes get sent first in teams of thirteen. And usually we get sent with who we dorm with. So long as we’re all at the same standard when selection comes.” He paused. “The last class left five months ago. My friend Dorian was in the group. I’m hoping I get to see him again soon.”
A cold knot formed in my stomach. “What classes are you in?”
He shrugged, but his eyes flickered. “Top. For everything.But don’t worry,” he added softly, “you’re in the top classes now, too. Guess we die together. Beautifully tragic, right? Like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They killed themselves,” I rolled my eyes at his mention of the stupid human book we’d been forced to read one summer at camp. “That is not love. That was an inappropriate age gap and miscommunication to the extreme.” We came to a stop on the landing. I added,“I’m not dying with you, I’m dying better than you. Something unforgettable, so people forget you existed.”
He laughed, and the ache in my chest eased—just a little.
An iron-wrought door stood before us, its surface etched with a moon rune that pulsed faintly. It looked newly reinforced, as if they’d only just bothered to seal it for whatever was waiting inside.
They also hadn’t managed to scratch out the wordsDorian’s Room; keep out unless you’ve got terrible taste in men.
Zayden hesitated with his hand on the door. Eyes darkening as he leant close. “Hightower’s watching you more than anyone—not just because you’re a shadebound.”
I raised a dark eyebrow. “My winning personality?”
“No,” he chuckled. “Another shadebound was in a group about two years ago—a legendary fighter. He’s still off fighting now. But Hightower thinks you could be his equal—maybe partner someday.Ifhe ever returns, or is still living when you get to Mortavia. But I also know she’s heard a bullshit prophecy from a seer. One that mentioned two shadebounds and the war. I thinkshethinks you’re important.”
I swallowed. Of course.
I’d heard seers’ visions were potent—snippets of futures untold—but they were riddles dressed in smoke. I didn’t trust prophecies that named two shadebounds or warned of wars I’d never chosen. Interpretations shifted with every wind; I refused to let someone else’s sight bind me.
Or be paired up with a stranger just because we were gothic little freaks who loved Death and despair.
I shoved the thought aside as I lied. “Sounds exciting. I’ll be sure to win Hightower over to thinking I’m not evil. I’m charming.”
Zayden laughed. “Terrifying. But close enough.”
His laughter suddenly died as his voice lowered. “I’m going to grab your uniforms and some stuff whilst you settle in. But before I leave you to it, I just wanted to say sorry.”
I blinked, surprised. I cocked my head, narrowing my eyes. “For what? The whole ‘surprise, you’re in hell now’ tour?”
Death whispered in my mind suddenly,Hell looks better than this. My home would never be so dull and I have WiFi.I almost laughed at the thought—then locked my mouth shut, oddly grateful that even with my magic dampened, I could still hear him.
“For that night,” Zayden’s cheeks reddened. “After I... after my dad. I came to you. I shouldn’t have. We’re best friends, and I almost ruined it entirely because I was selfish.”
My heart did that thing where it curled and unfolded at once. I crossed my arms, not to be defensive, just to hold something solid. But the corridor was too quiet suddenly, like the shadows had leant in to eavesdrop.
Like my emotions were swirling to the surface and doing their best to choke me or make me do something disgusting. Like cry.
“You killed your father because he was hurting you,” I breathed. “Hurting your mother. That wasn’t a mistake.”
