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Seph flexed her fingers around the grip and pulled back, pressing her wrist to her cheek. The blue skin of her burn tightened, and while it was a little uncomfortable, it wasn’t painful. Even that settled into the background as she focused on the familiar senses of wood grain and string pinched between her fingers and the strain through the muscles in her arm. The world in all its chaos drew to a sharp point at the end of a strip of wood. Here, with archery, everything made sense. Everything had singular purpose.

Survive or die.

Seph inhaled slowly, gazing down the length of the arrow’s shaft, her gaze fixed on the floating orb. She released.

Thwick.

The arrow tore across the space and sank into the orb right at the center. The orb vanished and her arrow clattered to the stones just as another orb appeared. Like the first, this bore a crimson heart and followed some invisible arc, but this one moved faster.

Seph drew another arrow, set, and pulled.

Thwick.

Her arrow struck true, and just like the first, the target dissolved into thin air as another appeared. Faster and faster her targets moved, and then they cameather. Vanishing and reappearing, all across the training yard, each shot more complicated than the last. But Seph did not stop, and when her quiver was finally empty, the orbs ceased, giving her the opportunity to gather her scattered arrows. It was ingenious, really, and Seph marveled at the enchantments behind it—at this entire world, the one she’d only heard about in stories but now experienced firsthand.

A world that had less than three months before it succumbed to one of two evils.

Seph loaded her bow again, and no sooner had she pulled back the string than an orb sped straight at her from the side. She whirled and fired, and her arrow struck its center.

Seph loosed a breath and wiped her brow, but this orb did not vanish. It divided in two. Seph frowned and reached for her quiver, and there she hesitated. She recalled how Alder had fired two arrows at once, and so she drew two as well, wondering how in the world he’d managed it. She’d never done it before, but he’d done it, so clearly it was possible.

Both orbs rushed her, and she set her two arrows and pulled back. Seph had no idea what would happen should she miss, but she fired: one arrow struck, but the second sailed past, and the other orb rammed right into her.

Energy zinged through her body like a bolt of lightning. Seph gasped as that orb rebounded and divided into two parts. The pair came at her again, and Seph hurriedly pulled two more arrows from her quiver, set, and fired.

This time, she missed both, and the orbs collided with her body.

“Ah!” Seph cried out from the shock of energy that jolted down her limbs. The orbs circled around her then coalesced into one, hovering at the perimeter as if giving her a moment to recover.

Seph shook out the residual energy tingling through her arms and hands, withdrew one more arrow, and she was just setting it in place when two warm and very large hands covered her eyes.

Seph froze.

“Nowshoot.” Alder’s voice was low and right in her ear.

Seph’s heart fluttered. She hated that it fluttered. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

But Alder only moved closer. His chest touched her back, and his breath ruffled her hair. He smelled like the forest after a rain, and something very masculine. “Your eyes deceive you,” he said. “Trust your instinct.”

“If only I’d trusted my instinct withyou.” She twisted out of his grasp, then—with lightning-quick reflexes—he was standing right in front of her.

Standingoverher, letting her feel every inch of his bearing. His eyes were granite, his features sharp as blades. “What are you doing, Josephine?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Go. Take Abecka’s offer, and wait by the Rift. You don’t want this life.”

He knew about Abecka’s offer. Suddenly, something else made sense. “Youleft the bow!”

He didn’t deny it.

Which meant he’d also left the clothes that fit her perfectly. Seph decided not to dwell on that part, especially because he’d given her both in hopes that she’d take them and leave Velentis. Regardless, his persistence became her resolve.

She tipped her face closer to his in defiance. “Well, I’ve got news for you,prince. I’m not going anywhere. You can say whatever you want, but you hold no authority over me, you self-serving ass.”

Alder’s expression darkened, and he leaned closer—so close that if she stood upon her toes, she could kiss him. “Call me what you will. I don’t care. I’ve been called worse, but if you intend to fight alongside me and my kin, you’ve got a lot more to learn. Our enemy will not stand idly beneath a tree while you cautiously take aim. It will not wander into a clearing you have carefully chosen, and I don’t care what Abecka told you, but I will not risk the others’ lives for your ignorance.”

Seph’s breath mixed with his in that small space between them. “I hate you.”