He hunched over his knees, gathering his breath. Alexei and Ronen stood near him, both breathing deeply but more composed.
“Out with it, Luce,” Oliver said, waving his hand expectantly.
“Out with what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he deadpanned, straightening. “Whatever has your panties in such a twist that you’ve ignored my joking, Alexei’s flirting, and Ronen’s scowling questions?”
I brushed off my uniform and stood in my snow crater. “Nothing.”
At least, nothing I wanted to explain to any of them. I could already hear what Oliver would say. I could already see the judgment in all their eyes. I was barely holding on to the tiny ball of hope I had. No, I wouldn’t say a thing until I was sure.
“Seriously, it’s nothing. Just reliving all my Michael memories did a number on me.”
It was a lie. As hard as it was to face every time I was abused by him, afterward, I felt purged of my past and even more determined to train and kill him.
I touched Oliver’s arm. “Really.”
Oliver pulled me in for a hug and nodded. I glanced at the other two. Alexei stared at me with sympathetic eyes, while Ronen’s face remained unreadable.
I gave Oliver a small smile. “Go on with Alexei. I need to talk with Ronen.”
Oliver quirked a brow, and I shoved him when he didn’t move.
Alexei unsheathed a dagger and started to flip it. “Now we’re more than intrigued. You’ve been silent and dazed this entire run, and then you want to talk to Ronen?”
I groaned, dropping my head back to the pre-dawn sky. “You two are insufferable. I’m not going to say a word to him while you’re here.”
I should’ve thought that over better. Of course King Nosy and Ronen’s loyal second would want to know, but I didn’t have the time to wait to ask Ronen, not when we were almost back inside the castle and I was about to train with my father.
“Leave us,” Ronen commanded.
Alexei sheathed his dagger and snatched Oliver’s arm. He had to be dragged through the doors, his head flopping back over his shoulder with a pout. I would’ve laughed, but all my energy was holding up my glass ball of hope on a shrinking needle.
I turned to Ronen. “In twenty minutes, I’d like you to meet me in the Shard Field. Lucifer and I are practicing there after this, and I’d like you to come watch, to critique me.”
Lie after lie, I couldn’t stop. But I also couldn’t tell the truth. At least this way, if nothing happened, he couldn’t question why I wanted him there. Then my hunch would be wrong, the stinging that continued to threaten my eyes would subside, and the fissures slowly spreading through my heart would stop.
But if something did happen, I’d want Ronen by our side. My father struggled in our last session for whatever reason, and I didn’t want to take chances if he was in a similar state this session.
Ronen quietly watched me in that unnerving way of his, like he was analyzing my every word. I fidgeted as the silence dragged on. Did he understand the power he held over me with that gaze? Could he hear my heartbeat?
“I figured a second pair of eyes would benefit me,” I added, needing to fill the silence.
After the longest moment of my life, he finally nodded.
My father stoodin a fearsome armored uniform a few yards away. Spikes protruded along his arms, gaining length at his slouched shoulders. They were red-tipped, as if decorated in the blood of his enemies. A black skull sat at the center of his breastplate, red paint dripped from the eyes and mouth, seeping into the interlocking armored plates beneath like a gruesome ribcage. The color bled into the armor at his legs in long drip lines, as if the skull had ruptured his heart and pooled down his body.
Red for blood and black for death—Hell’s colors.
I stood straighter, glad he didn’t have a helmet or mask that went along with his gear. Without one, he wasn’t as intimidating; in fact, his hunched form made me wary. He looked worse than yesterday.
“Are you sure you don’t want to move our session to a later day, or we could have Ronen take over?”
“General Ronen,” he snapped, his eyes flashing.
Wind whipped around us, creaking the Veil Forest’s branches, pulling my hair loose from its bind, and swirling fresh snow at our feet.
“General Ronen,” I replied slowly, my brows furrowing.
