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He wipes the spit from his cheek slowly, staring at it on his hand. Without warning, his hand swings back and slams across my face, sending me to the ground.

“Like I’d actually sleep with a Drifter,” he sneers, then walks away laughing with the other guard.

I sit on the floor for a second, catching my breath. Pain radiates across my cheek where his hand landed. I can already feel that my face is going to be bruised. With shaky hands, I remove my braid to try and conceal the mark that I know must be prominent.

Once I calm myself, I stand and head toward the training yard.

Immediately, I make my way to Elm, who’s practicing his wind magic, sending bursts of air toward a line of targets. My legs are shaky, but I keep my head low, letting my hair curtain my face.

“Where have you bee—” Elm’s voice cuts off with a gasp as his hand reaches for my chin. I back away quickly.

“What the hells happened, Reign?”

“Leave it alone, Elm—please. Just train. From the look of it you still need the practice.” My voice comes out sharper than I intended, but I can’t bear the thought of him drawing attention to my face.

“Reign, this isn’t a joke. Who did this?” He steps closer.

I back away again, raising my hand. A ball of fire ignites in my palm, flickering between us.

“Oh shit…” Elm mutters under his breath, glancing over my shoulder. “He’s coming.”

I don’t need to ask who it is. I could feel his eyes on me before Elm even said anything. That familiar pull in my stomach tightens, and I channel the swirling emotions into my hand, making the ball of fire burn hotter, brighter, expanding with each breath.

I hear his heavy footsteps behind me, but I don’t turn.

“So nice of you to join us, Prisoner.”

“Yeah, well, my beauty sleep was interrupted last night, so I thought I’d make up for it this morning.”

“Is that so?” His footsteps crunch through fallen leaves as he steps beside me. I keep my head down and will the blazing ball of fire to split in two.

“If sleep makes you any more beautiful, I might have to forbid it, because my eyes are already hopelessly captivated by you.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. His flirtatious comment lingers in the air, making my chest tighten. My mind scrambles for a witty response, but all I can manage is a nervous laugh. My fingers fidget causing my flame to flicker. Feeling the intensity of his gaze makes me feel both exhilarated and exposed. I shift my weight from one foot to the other.

Lukene’s hand reaches over and grabs my chin firmly, tugging it toward him. My flame immediately dies out, anticipating his reaction. Once his eyes gaze upon my face they change from flirty to fury as he notices my cheek.

“Reign—” He tilts my head to the side, inspecting the bruise. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

I yank my head free. “It’s nothing. Leave it, Prince.”

Lukene looks at Elm, who holds his hands up with wide eyes and shrugs. “I have no clue what happened. She wouldn’t tell me either.”

“Was it a contestant?” He presses.

“No. Just leave it alone.”

“A guard?” His voice lowers, and I stiffen. The slightest movement gives me away. His calculating eyes narrow, piecing it together.

“Double burning hells. Both of you are acting like territorial pricks. It is not a big deal. Now, leave it the hells alone.” I thrust my palm outward, summoning a flame, but Lukene grabs my hand. The fire sears his skin, yet he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away, forcing me to pull the power back into myself.

“Not a big deal?” He lets out a sharp laugh, more scoff than humor. “Let me show you what territorial looks like, Reckless.”

He drops my hand and strides away, fury radiating off him.

Shadows spill from me the moment I turn away from Reign. Normally, they obey my command, but the rage boiling inside me makes controlling them nearly impossible.

Losing control was never a problem—until Reign came into my miserable life.