Page 42 of Trivium

“You’re willing to go that low?” His voice was notably more tense. “Injure my manhood to win?”

“You underestimate my level of pettiness.”

“Cruel, violent girl,” he purred.

“Oh, I like that a lot better than Alva.”

He released her, and she jumped up, stumbling backwards into the crowd. Ren rose gracefully, flaunting his power.

“A tie then,” Loveleena declared as someone behind her groaned in annoyance.

“Sure.” Ren nodded, his expression careless. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

For the first time since she arrived, she longed for the days when being a noble meant something. Always respected. Never laughed at. Never mocked. Her mouth tasted metallic from where she had bit down on her tongue. She stormed off, listening to the laughter of the crowd behind her.

Fuck them all.

Especially Ren.

29

AHMINA

Ahmina reached up to rub the blur from her eyes. Daylight poured in through the windows of the wood-flanked walls, and slowly, the room came into focus.

“You’re awake!” a woman said, appearing beside her bed. “Not sure how you survived a Venom Viper; last week you were a Slyfox-hair away from death, but we’re glad to have you back.”

Ahmina’s head pounded, and she sat up in bed, rubbing her temples.

“Here, drink this.” The woman handed her a cup of warm liquid, and she sipped it carefully, her fingers warming as they wrapped around the ceramic mug. “That will help with your head.”

Setting the cup down on the table next to her, she looked around. “Where am I?” Her mind was foggy; she couldn’t remember how she got there.

“The infirmary,” the woman confirmed.

The infirmary. The woman was an Alchemist. A healer.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Ahmina searched her mind. Visions of the dark forest, panic, Rory screaming at Lennox. Blood. So much blood. Ahmina shuddered.

“I don’t know.” She didn’t feel like recounting any of it to this strange woman.

“Well, you’ve had lots of visitors. A red-headed girl was here morning and night. Some of your squad members. And a handsome second year.” She gave Ahmina a flirty look. “I told him he could stay longer but he⁠—”

“—How long have I been here?” she asked, rubbing her arms.

“A fortnight and a few days.”

Panicked, she kicked off her sweat-dampened sheets and pushed herself out of bed, wobbling on unsteady legs. “I have to⁠—”

“Woah there.” Her caretaker held her arms. “Slow down.”

“I have to go.” Ahmina pulled out of her grasp, trying not to stumble as she headed for the door.

“Wait!” the Alchemist said, grabbing her wrist. “At least take this.” She handed her a small glass bottle. “Drink five drops in water every morning and night for the next two weeks. It will help your blood recover.”

Ahmina nodded and left the infirmary in a daze. She was dressed in a nightgown, her bare feet cold against the stone floor. Groups of students whispered as she passed, but she didn’t care. She needed to find Rory and figure out what had happened. Plus, she had missed two whole weeks of her studies. As she made her way back to her dorm, she made a mental list of all the things she needed to do: talk to her professors, catch up on assignments. And what about Combat? Was she even well enough to train?