“Caderyn, if there’s one thing I understand, it’s this. It’s okay not to fit inside the mold that was created for you. You’re entitled to be exactly what you were made to be,” he states, his words coming out direct and unapologetic. “Don’t let anyone steal that from you. Not even yourself.” His eyes hold me rooted to the spot. The gold is diminishing, and the black ring seems larger.
He is a walking enigma. Cold and detached, but sees things others choose not to. He’s dark in the most delicious ways—dark hair, dark eyes, and dark tendencies. But he’s also the only one who shines a light on me and pushes me to accept all aspects of myself. Even the uglier ones.
He never judges me for not being perfect, just for trying to be.
“I do accept what I am. What I can be. It’s just at the moment it seems that the only thing I am good at is not being good at anything.”
“False.” He shakes his head at me. “Low confidence isn’t a good look on you.”
Frustration bubbles below my skin. “You can’t just say something and make it so. Maybe this isn’t what I was meant to do. Maybe I’m needed elsewhere.”
“You’re needed here. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. No one is going to do it for you. There is no hand-holding in this academy.” His fingers flex over the helmet in his hand.
“I know that,” I counter. “I just don’t know what I need to do to manifest. I’m a Liminal,” I remind him. “I have no instruction manual on the steps needed to be taken. But thank you for reminding me I’m on my own,” I seethe, turning on my heel, the blanket snapping as I walk away.
Kingston’s fingers close over my wrist, stopping me mid-stride. “We are born alone, and we die alone. We’re all on our own. It’s not just you, Heathen.”
I’m feeling irritable and annoyed at the fact that he’s making sense. Reckless and defiant enough to push him. “Technically, I’m not alone. I have Ambrose in my corner and hopefully sooner rather than later, in my bed.”
His eyes meet mine, and a chill sweeps through the air.
His sharp jaw ticks, and his canines flash.
I can bite, too. “And we all know where you can go if yours gets too cold.” I cross my arms and raise a brow.
“Where do you think I’ll be tonight?”
I want to punch him right in the face, and I’m not sure what bothers me more. What he said, or the fact that I want to hit him because of it.
The rest of the walk back is in silence. I feel Kingston watching me out of the corner of his eye. I think he’s trying to determine whether he should just carry me the rest of the way to speed the journey up, but he knows that it’ll probably irritate me more.
The moment our feet step onto the training field, I push past him. Makon and the three Noctryns from earlier swivel their heads in our direction. Makon’s face breaks out in a wide grin. The bastards never even joined the hunt. It was a scare tactic. An efficient one, though, I’ll give him that.
“Looks like there won’t be a training break for you,” Makon hollers between his hands.
I pull the damp blanket tighter around my shoulders and ignore him.
We cross the field, our path back to the academy bringing us closer to them. “That didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” one of them says. His helmet masks his identity. He reaches out and touches the soggy blanket resting around my rigid frame. “Geeze King, what’d you do? Try to drown her?”
“She decided a swim was in order,” he answers dryly.
“Does she knowhowto swim?” one of the other helmeted men asks.
I’m pretty sure I recognize the second speaker as Koa, but at this point, I don’t care who they are. They’re all my enemies.
“A-assholes,” I mutter under my breath, shivering.
Kingston grabs my elbow and starts pulling me toward the academy. I’m so exhausted, I just let him.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” an angry voice thunders across the field. I turn my head to find Ambrose stalking our way.
His face is a mask of fury.
I close my eyes and exhale. He’s here. Everything will be okay.
His shoulders are rigid, and both nostrils are flaring. His large strides eat up the space between us in no time. The second he reaches me, he grips both shoulders and lets his eyes run over my frozen body. A tendon in his neck stands out from suppressed anger.
Without warning, he turns and punches Kingston right in the jaw.
