Page 50 of Veiled

As soon as my feet leave the ground, my body lights up in agony. My raised arms now fully support my body weight as I fly through the air toward the next platform.

The key to this last part is to time the release just right, so I force myself to focus on the platform instead of the pain. Too early and I’ll fall to the ground—only a ten-foot drop, but not fun even when your ribs are fully intact. Too late, and I risk overshooting the platform and meeting the same ending.

Three.

Two.

One.

My fingers uncurl from the rope. I’m airborne.

And then I’m falling.

I slam onto the second platform and roll, the impact rattling my bones.

This is why most people hate this course. It wipes away your ego, exposes your weaknesses, and tests your perseverance through pain. I suppose that’s one thing I can thank my dad for. I have lived with pain far worse than this and learned to smile through it.

Forcing my shaking body to steady, I ring the bell like the salvation it is.

As I stand here, chest heaving, my ribs throbbing in time with my heartbeat, the bell’s echo fades. I stand tall, despite every breath feeling like a dagger is digging deeper into my side. I will not let it show.

But as I make my way back toward the starting point, I spot Captain Korr standing at the edge of the course, his eyes trained on me, and I can feel it; he knows. He knows exactly what happened and what I did.

His gaze travels down my body, but this time it isn’t in the heated way that it was before class. He sees the way my movements are just a little off, the slight limp in my step, the way I’m not allowing myself to take a full breath, despite the physical exertion.

“Why didn’t you tap out?” His voice is low at first, dangerous. “You’ve run this course before. You knew what came next.”

“I’m fine. I didn’t need to tap,” I manage, though my voice betrays the strain I’m trying to suppress.

He steps closer, his expression darkening. “You’re not fucking fine!” The sharp edge in his voice makes me flinch. “Your ribs are broken—you could’ve punctured a lung!

“How could you be so stupid? Why even try for that last obstacle? You could have died!”

He’s right. I know he’s right. He wouldn’t be doing his job if he weren’t scolding me—but still, all I can hear is my father’s voice. The same tone. The same volume. The same venom.

Something inside me clicks. The air pulls back. The edges of the world blur. Sound dulls. My body feels miles away. And my vision tunnels until Korr’s face fades into a distant shape, his voice muffled, distorted, like I’m underwater.

Not here. Not now. Just breathe.

Except, I can’t.

My mind folds in on itself, detaching, floating somewhere safer—anywhere but here, anywhere but with him.

I must nod at the right times because Korr’s mouth keeps moving, words tumbling out, sharp but unreadable. Then, suddenly, he’s not the one at my side anymore. A Bravo recruit is lifting me, carrying me in the direction of the infirmary.

The world drifts in and out, my body dissociating and moving on autopilot.

Chapter nineteen

Annalise

“Lee! The healers didn’t tell me you’d woken up yet. I’ll be right there!” Matt says, picking up on the first ring as I gently close the back door of the infirmary. “I ran out to get coffee, but I’m coming back right now.”

I hear him tell someone to cancel his order.

“No, Mattey. I’m fine. I just left the infirmary. I’m calling to see where you are. Tell them to put your order back in and add one for me, please. I’m going to change out of these loaner clothes the infirmary gave me since mine were filthy, then I’ll come meet you in the dining hall.”

“Yeah, okay. Are you hungry? I can grab us some food too.”