A sharp breath escapes from my lungs, half laugh, half growl.
This asshole.
I utter every colorful curse word that comes to mind. Unfortunately, it’s muffled behind the firm grip pressing into my lips.
I know that voice almost as well as I know my own.
Ambrose Ballard.
He hesitates before lowering his hand from my mouth, like he’s not sure my creative vocabulary won’t continue the moment he does.
“You could have just said hello like a normal person,” I huff, rubbing my lips with the back of my hand.
His masculine chuckle wraps around me before he grabs my shoulders, turning me to face him. The first thing I focus on isthe smirk resting on his stubbornly handsome face. It’s like a punch straight to the gut. It’s been so long since I’ve seen that smirk.
I’ve missed it. Desperately.
“You know how much I love to make an entrance, and what better way to make one than ending up with a pretty girl in my arms?” he asks in a playful tone, his eyes raking me from head to toe like he’s missed me too.
Too bad for me that I know he’s just playing. Best friend privileges also come with a big, fat off-limits sign plastered to my forehead. Regrettably, I think it’s the only thing he sees when looking at me. It’s a far cry from what I see every time I look at him. Like the way his easy smile shows off his perfectly straight teeth, or the way his glacial-blue eyes crinkle at the sides when he laughs. The fact that he towers over me with his impressive height, and how, somehow, I always instantly feel safe by his side.
The glow of the torchlight along the wall makes his dark brown waves, which sit on his shoulders, appear almost auburn. He’s the most beautiful person I know and the most unattainable, especially for me.
You sound pathetic, Nori.
I clear my throat because I do sound pathetic. Even to myself. “You may be well on your way to becoming one of the best soldiers in the regiment, but you’re not there yet,” I warn as I poke him in the chest. His very solid, defined chest. A year at the academy has brought about some changes for him. “What held you up? I figured you’d bailed on me,” I say, craning my neck back to peer into his amused eyes.
“What took me so long? I’ll tell you what took me so long,” he says with a saccharine grin. “I was stealingthisfor you.”
I watch with growing anticipation as his hand disappears in his pocket before withdrawing a small piece of parchment. “Isthat what I think it is? Please tell me that’s what I think it is,” I plead, reaching for it.
His smug grin is slowly replaced with an uneasy one.
“Yeah, Nori, it’s exactly what you think it is,” he replies, holding it out of my reach. “A death sentence for both of us if you get caught with it. Also known as a copy of this year’s written portion of the Asylamation.”
I don’t know whether I want to punch him or kiss him. Neither is highly recommended for different reasons.
When he got word to me last month, explaining that he might be able to give me an advantage and obtain a copy of the exam, I was hesitant for about three seconds. I’m not above lying, cheating, or stealing at this point in my life to get into Kintoira Academy. The academy that trains all of the realm’s future soldiers. Also, it just happens to be Ambrose’s current residence. I’d do anything to become a student. Even enroll and commit to Asylamation week. The week that tests the prospects by trial of blood through written and physical assessments.
He and I both know what’s at stake if either of us gets caught with this document. I want to be a student, but I never said I have any qualms about how I get there. It was, however, very stupid of me to agree to let Ambrose be a part of this. Not that anyone reallyletshim do anything, but he put himself in danger for me, and that’s not something I take lightly.
If I were caught, there would be a swift punishment of execution. No questions asked, no jury or second chances. Not many people would notice or care. But Ambrose Ballard’s execution would certainly be noticed.
And a tragedy.
There are two portions to the test—a written and a physical. The academy weighs each answer given in the written portion and watches every move and decision made during the physical portion. Not only are the prospects trying to just stay alive butthey’re also being judged for every choice they make. What lies within their core? Are they dark wielders or light wielders? It’s not just about capabilities but also about who we are at our very essence.
As if anything is ever really that simple.
Kintoira Academy is the birthplace of the fiercest fighters in all of the Domains. That much is pretty simple. It’s not even up for debate. It’s also the one place you must attend in Salaryan if you want to manifest your birth-given abilities. Which is absolute bullshit if you ask me, but to voice this out loud is heresy. So, I’ll keep my mouth shut and my head firmly attached to my shoulders, thank you very much.
Their motto is that they withhold our powers from us to protect us. According to them, we can’t control our abilities unless we’re taught how to. To prevent our powers from manifesting, all newborns are given blockers at birth. I know the truth, though, even if I can’t say it out loud.
It’s just an excuse for them to control us.
To keep us on a tight leash.
I’m done letting them hold the reins.
