Page 49 of Veiled

I slide into a deeper stretch, letting my legs spread wide and my back arch a little more than necessary. And I watch his eyes hungrily look me up and down, pausing on my ass a second too long to be decent, before he forces his gaze back to my face. I don’t remember him moving, but he’s closer now. His voice is a quiet growl, “Miss Corvin. If you keep it up, you’re going to be on top.”

My name rolling off his tongue with that tone shoots straight to my core. And what did he just say?

“I’m not sure what you mean?” I tilt my head, my voice still sounding virginal, while my body is hot from every word falling from his mouth.

A short laugh escapes his lips. “After this round of the obstacle course, if you keep your movements … tight, you should be on top of the leaderboard.”

Oh. My. Gods.

He doesn’t wait for me to respond; he simply turns around and calls for the class to head to the obstacle course.

I’m almost at the starting point before it hits me…I was so distracted by Korr that I forgot to stretch my upper body. Self-sabotage at its finest. While I wait for my turn, I roll out my neck and stretch my arms overhead, a soft groan escaping me as ghost pains in my ribs flare.

From the corner of my eye, I catch the slightest shift in Korr’s stance, and I’d be willing to bet he imagined me making that noise for a much sexier reason.

I don’t hesitate when his whistle blows for me to start. Sprinting for the rope climb, I haul myself up quickly, pinching the rope between my feet and moving one hand over the other on the prickly fibers, until I reach the monkey bars suspended fifteen feet in the air.

Making sure my grip is solid, I swing hard, building momentum and skipping a bar with each arc like I did on the school playground when I was little. As soon as I reach the other side, I’m dropping onto the platform below and then to the ground.

Disappearing into the dense forest beyond the training fields, I throw myself to the ground, crawling under the low-hanging barbed wires that emit magically fueled flames at random intervals. Nothing keeps you from getting too comfortable in a mud pit like being singed, just ask the guy who went before me.

Then I come to the wooden wall climbs, five in total, each is taller and more difficult than the one before it. Their oddly shaped grips are permanently slick from the mist that never fully burns off under the forest canopy. The final wall stands over thirty feet high, with the grips becoming sparser. Being as short as I am is definitely a disadvantage on this obstacle, so I leap and pray between some of the hand and foot holds.

Once I slide down the angled backside of the last wall, I run to the balance gauntlet, a series of narrow beams suspended between massive trees. Below me, a shallow pit is filled with freezing, magically charmed water that somehow leaves you even colder than it should, or so Perry said.

Almost to the end, I take a deep breath and step into the combat loop where Bravo recruits are alternating turns in the pit, challenging us to quick, intense sparring matches. You can either win by knocking your opponent to the ground first or survive for five minutes to move on. Surviving is better for points than being knocked out, but five minutes can make or break your ranking for the course, so I know I need to get my opponent down quickly.

As soon as I approach the ring, I know I’m screwed. The next person in line to spar is none other than the six-foot-three, muscular man who ravaged me before joining Lucas in torturing me. The second I step into the ring, Aiden charges, not hitting me, but testing me. I side-step his advance and get into my fighting stance. Years of teaching self-defense at the gym mean nothing against recruits who have trained to be at Scion.

My height and speed are advantages when I need to tire out an opponent or evade a blow in class, but I’m already racing against the clock.

I throw a few strikes, only to have him dodge them effortlessly. He’s taunting me, pushing me mentally as much as physically.

I try a leg sweep, but he steps out of it. I jab low, aiming for his stomach…he blocks effortlessly, but he left his face wide open. Without a second thought, I take the opening…

It was a trap!

He spins faster than I would think possible for someone his size and lands a clean left hook to my ribs. Crack.

Fuck! The same side that just finished healing. I suck in a deep breath to assess the damage, and the pressure of the inhale and the wheeze that accompanies it, there’s no question. Broken.

I need to get out of here. Now.

But tapping out isn’t an option. I’ve lived with this kind of pain before…worse, even.

I wait until he circles back to face me. It’s there in his eyes—the certainty that I’m about to forfeit; I can use that. Curling into myself, I crouch low like I’m going down.

He steps closer…to check on me? Knock me out? I don’t wait to find out.

Instead of dropping the rest of the way to the ground, I throw a left-handed punch into his solar plexus, my right arm tight to my face for protection. It wasn’t nearly as hard as if it had been my dominant hand, but the natural reflex has him folding, and I know I would only get one more hit out of my right side.

I cock my right arm and slam it into his nose. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to make his eyes water as he falls to the ground, and to tear a silent scream from my lips as my ribs are stretched too far.

I should quit. I know I should. But I only have one more obstacle.

This is about to hurt like a bitch.

I grab the rope swing with both hands, clenching my teeth as I push off the first platform.