Page 92 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“Too slow,” he says.

I shove off his chest, breath coming fast, and spin on my heel. This time I don’t think—I feel. The sadness I feel for Ryker, the fear of the upcoming war and all the unknowns…Kellan’s betrayal. All of it fuels my movement, not to become a wild distraction, but to hone the power.

My palm slams into his shoulder and he staggers. I follow through with a sweep of my leg, catching the back of his knee.

He hits the mat with a thud that echoes.

A wicked grin tugs at my mouth. “Still think I’m holding back?”

Trysten laughs as he rolls to his feet. “You’re improving.”

“Improving?” I arch a brow. “That’s all I get?” Never mind that I’ve been working my butt off every day with Professor Ainslyn.

He moves again—faster. I block, my forearms screaming with the force of it. He retaliates with a strike that lands squarely against my ribs.

I stumble, gasping for air.

Trysten reaches for me, terrified he hurt me, but I use the opportunity to catch him off guard and my fist finds its mark on his chin. His head swivels, eyes widening.

Now it’s my turn to be horrified. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I⁠—

Then he grins. “Better.”

I stand there, dumbfounded and confused as to what just happened. I barely have time to react before he sweeps my legs out from under me. The air rushes from my lungs as I hit the mat hard, the breath bursting from me in a gasp.

Trysten hovers above me, smirking. “Never drop your guard.”

I glare up at him, chest heaving. “Says the man who did exactly that.”

He grins, reaching down to help me. “Never⁠—”

I pull him down and drive my knee up, catch him off-balance, and roll, reversing our positions. My palms press against his shoulders, pinning him. “—Underestimate me,” I finish for him.

The laugh that slips from him is rough and breathless, almost proud. “That’s more like it.”

I release him and sit back, wiping the sweat from my temple. My arms tremble, a precursor to the physical toll Elison warned us about, but for the first time, I don't feel like I'm breaking. I'm being forged.

He studies me for a long moment before saying, quieter now, “You’re finally fighting for yourself, not who you expect them to see.”

I look away, swallowing the strange warmth that pools in my chest. “Guess I have the right teachers this time.”

He sits up, arms draped over his knees. “Again?”

Chapter 33

Ryker

I’m headed to a meeting when one of the Regils yells breathlessly from behind me, “Prince Anders! Wait!”

I pause, turning to face him. His white uniform is disheveled, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in a week.

He bends over, catching his breath before handing me the tablet. I look down at the scans of Khyreth and feel like I can’t breathe.

No! No, this can’t be right.

“War camps,” he pants. “I double, no, triple checked.” He points to a section of the scan that is clearer now, still dark, but at least there’s definition. “Tents. And these—” He points to the center of the ring. “It’s some sort of gathering spot.”

I swipe to the next scan. Similar patterns show large rings of encampments.