Page 8 of He Who Ignites The Flame
She wasn’t the first to question it, and though the irritation coiled in my chest, I bit it back.
“I am a third-year recruit, yes, and I will be taking my vows with our Goddess in six months, during theBelariôs Retala. My situation is unique, as my services beganbeforeI joined The Order. I did not require the training you all do, but there are still steps that must be met to take Selene’s vows.” I looked over their faces. “You all will undergo the same length of training, working up the ranks of recruitment. There are three tiers of recruits, one for each year you spend in service proving yourself.”
“When will we start hunting darklings?” another asked.
“At the end of your second year.” I continued down the line, taking in each face but none too deeply. Few would likely remain to take their vows, and I knew better than to get too attached. “Your first year will be spent building your strength and learning defense tact?—”
“What makes you qualified to train us if you’re only a recruit?” a male asked, and I stopped mid-step. “You’ve got that fancy scar, but did you really get it fighting?”
I froze at the mention of the scar running down my face, its presence an ever-lingering reminder. The beast within me bristled, teeth bared in the dark recesses of my soul. No matter how much I tried, nothing hid the mark. Makeup came off with sweat; by noon, it no longer concealed the hideous reminder.
The pompous male continued, his tone impatient and cocky, and I fought the urge to sweep his feet out from under him. “Shouldn’t a warrior who’s completed their training be teaching us?”
How amusing that the male recruit I’d caught whispering earlier was once again interrupting my lesson. He elbowed his friend, who glanced nervously at him. A growl snaked its way up my throat, but I swallowed it back down before the beast lingering in the core of my being could make him submit. There were times when it was necessary, but I didn’t need to resort to that. I didn’t have to be that monster anymore.
Though sometimes, I wanted to be...
No. There were other ways I could break him. I lifted my chin, forcing a smile across my face that was all teeth. “My apologies for the misunderstanding. What is your name, recruit?”
He ran his fingers through his short dark hair. I internally rolled my eyes at the recruit fresh out of hissettlingbefore me. Absolute male arroganceexuded from every pore of his very being as he spoke. “Lucas.”
“Lucas,” I echoed and turned to step over to the rack of weapons. “I assume you are practiced with a blade. Am I correct?”
“I’ve had a little training.” His voice was laced with confidence, but my nose told me otherwise, and my lips twitched as I fought a smirk.
“Good.” I bypassed the wooden training weapons their level would start with to grab a short sword from the rack. “Then you can give us a demonstration. We shall see which of us is more qualified to train your group.”
I tossed the sword to him, and he caught it, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he did have some skill, but I would test that for myself. He glanced at me nervously, and I grinned as his scent turned acidic.
The beast’s thoughts echoed through my mind as it watched.You are wise to be afraid.
He and his friend exchanged nervous looks before he stepped forward.
“I want all of you to pay attention,” I said, my voice harsh and unyielding, reaching each and every ear as I locked eyes on the male. “My training came long before I joined The Order, fighting creatures you would never encounter on this side of the veil.”
Dread coiled in my gut at the thought of that place, but it was clear they weren’t taking me seriously, so perhaps it would do well to instill a little fear.
I turned to Lucas as he widened his stance. “Darklings do not fight fair.”
My gaze swept over him, assessing his form to find that his left foot wasn’t fully stable. A weakness, but the rest of him seemed solid.
I glanced back to the group watching us. “When you face a darkling, it will be nothing like facing an immortal. The darklings are vicious, relentless, instinctual, and if you don’t stab them between the eyes or in the heart—” I leveled my gaze on the male before me, and my lips twitched at the sight of unease on his face—“they will rise again.”
The group of recruits tracked every movement I made, the weight of their stares burning into my back as I watched Lucas.
He gripped the hilt of the sword and glanced at my empty hands. His brows furrowed as I widened my stance. “What about your sword?”
“Oh, I don’t need one.” I had never needed one, had fought with my fangs and claws alone for decades—and I wouldn’t even need those. “I’ll give you the first swing. Let me see how much bite you have.”
He didn’t hesitate and lunged forward with a downstroke of his blade, of which I easily slid out of the way. I slipped my foot out to trip him, a grunt bursting from him as he hit the dirt before he pushed himself to his feet and whipped around to face me. A hushed snicker reached my ear, and his attention slipped from me briefly to look at those watching us.
I rushed for him. “Eyes on me. A darkling won’t wait for you to pay attention. They will go for the easy kill.”
He stepped back, eyes widening as he hesitated. Big mistake. He swung at me, and I slid around him, avoiding his attack before I came to a stop at his back.
“You’ll have to be faster than that. You’d be dead twice now,” I whispered. His shoulders were already rising and falling in heavy rhythm. Poor thing. He was untested, had likely only worked with a wooden training sword, had probably never held real Elythian steel in his life.
“Little bitch,” he muttered under his breath, and the beast within me growled.
