Only the best and highest-marked students qualified to compete for immortality.
I wouldn’t even come close with these marks against my record.
I just wished I knew what I’d done wrong. How to please him. How to fix my technique to his satisfaction. Everyone else seemed to understand except me.
I’d practiced day and night.
And I swore my angles had been just right.
Maybe taking a fighting course had been a bad idea. But becoming a Vigil was my second choice to immortality. At least Vigils had a semblance of rights in this world.
Unlike practically every other designation.
I excelled in every other course.
So why not this one?
I bit my lip as I considered the vampire in question who continued to fail me. He stood at the front of the room in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down shirt. It was what he always wore, even while demonstrating fighting moves on the mat.
Elegance personified.
Gorgeous, too.
Midnight eyes. A square chin shadowed by a neatly trimmed beard that framed his handsome jaw. Full lips. Thick brown hair that was tousled near his ears. And a body that reminded me of a sleek wolf more than a vampire, his fluid-like grace something that drew my gaze to him every time he moved.
“Is there something you need, Prospect Four Hundred and Seven, Year One Hundred Seventeen?” Master Cedric asked, his deep tones sending a chill down my spine.
Because that was me—Prospect Four Hundred and Seven, Year One Hundred Seventeen.
We were all named by our prospect numbers and the year we would be assigned to our fates.
This was year one hundred sixteen.
Which made me almost finished with my training.
Assuming I didn’t fail this course.
Master Cedric’s dark gaze lifted to mine, the cruelty lurking in the depths of his irises causing me to freeze before him. The glimmer of irritation in his irises was impossible to miss, as was the curl of his lip as he glared at me in obvious impatience.
Because he’d asked me something.
Something I could no longer remember.
Not with him staring me down as though I were his next meal.
An accurate assessment, given my mortal status and his superiority over humankind.
I lowered my gaze, demonstrating my weaker stance and bestowing unto him the respect due for his position.
Except my focus dropped to the paper in my hand, reminding me that this vampire had just failed me—again—and I didn’t understand why. I wanted to improve my skills not just for him but for myself, too. Because I knew I could excel at being a Vigil if given the appropriate marks.
“Master Cedric,” I began, swallowing as I tried to form my words. “Are there, um, any opportunities or courses you recommend for me to improve my skills? I feel like I missed a class before yours, and I want to perfect my technique to more adequately meet your expectations.”
Even though I’m reasonably certain I’ve done everything right thus far.
But clearly, I’m missing something.
So help me. Please.