Talon gave me a swift onceover, and I’d be surprised if he wasn’t inwardly laughing—I had to look a mess. His gaze briefly held mine before skittering away to scan our surroundings, ever vigilant.
Ajax deftly erected his tent in a series of quick movements. “You lay your wool sheet on the floor and use your cloak as a blanket. Simple. Now go pitch your tents. Pick a spot in this area. Don’t go beyond the fallen trees here unless it’s to do your private business—that we don’t need to see.”
Glad the ground in these parts was more solid and a lot less muddy, I quickly found myself a spot. I was glad that we’d had to practice putting up a tent, because I wasn’t sure I could have otherwise managed to do it right this moment while my fingers felt numb, my muscles hurt, and my hands were shaky … just as they often were after I’d been forced to stand in the same position for what felt like hours while naked and cold.
It just went to show that, though the trials of Xalbia sometimes felt cruel, itdidprepare you for the reality of being part of the Order.
As we put up our tents, the officiates built a fire. We all soon gathered around it, holding our hands up to the warmth to chase the chill from our bones. Small rations of food were passed around—nothing that tasted particularly good, but I’d eat pretty much anything right now.
Feeling eyes on me, I glanced to my right just as I finished my “meal.” Atticus and Klemens were looking right at me, whispering to each other. Whatever.
Eventually, we were all sent to bed. Inside my tent, I carefully removed the drizzle-covered cloak, not wanting toshake any rain droplets onto my bedding. Peering down at my feet, I frowned. Gods, my boots were covered in mud. I kicked them off and placed them off to the side, away from the woolen sheet. I’d better not wake to find any worms in my boots—they seemed to be everywhere in the moorlands.
I wanted out of my sodden clothes more than I wanted my next breath, but there was no chance that I was going to sleep in just my undergarments. It was too damn cold for that.
Deciding I could instead don my one clean outfit, I first shed my wet clothes and used the dirty tunic to dry off my clammy skin. Once I’d tugged on my clean garments, I settled on the woolen sheet on my side and then dragged my spare cloak over me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I decided to keep my blade handy.
Well, I wasn’t the only one who’d earned a weapon when sparring.
I slipped the dagger beneath the sheet within easy reach and then closed my eyes. Shivering from the cold, I burrowing deeper under my cloak. I suspected that I was going to have some major aches tomorrow from sleeping on the hard ground.
I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Outside, the wind moaned and howled, rattling my tent and causing the canvas to flap incessantly. But I was so exhausted from the hellish hike that I eventually managed to fall asleep.
I wasn’t sure what woke me. It almost felt like I was nudged awake, yet I was alone.
Grass crunching.
Even through the moaning of the wind—which wasn’t quite as violent now—I heard hesitant footfalls approaching my tent.
My breathing briefly stopped as I tensed, instantly snapping to full alertness. Still lying on my side, I slowly slid my hand beneath my pillow and located my blade.
My nape prickling, I listened intently. Could it be an animal? One of the beasts that called the moorlands its home?
There were no stomps of paws. No prick of claws. No rough bestial breaths.
A scrape of leather on dry earth.
My jaw went hard. No, it wasn’t an animal, I realized, my pulse quickening. The heavy tread coming up behind me was made by boots.
Gripping the handle of my blade tight, I pulled it out from under the woolen sheet. My heart jumped as a fumble came fromright outsidemy tent. Someone was close.Tooclose.
And the tent collapsed on top of me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Iinstinctively rolled aside fast, but heat blazed along my upper arm as the canvas above me tore. Something had stabbed through it. Andcutme.
A knife.
The hell?Anger and fear clashed inside me, fighting for supremacy.
Seeing the shadow hovering above my tent, I lashed out without hesitation; stabbing upwards through the canvas and slamming the blade into an arm.
A sharp male cry rang out as the offending knife fell to my bedding. I yanked back my own blade and held it close to my chest. Even though the shadow staggered backwards, I shuffled further away from him.
Barks filled the air, coming closer and closer. And then I saw three new shadows leap on my attacker. A loud thump sounded as he hit the ground hard, and then more male cries mingled with the snarls and growls of the dogs.
Relief dragging a shaky breath from my lungs, I slithered out of the collapsed tent just as people began to pop their heads out of their own. Ignoring the cold lashes of the wind, I turned to see Klemens splayed out on the ground, several Laelaps biting into his limbs.
