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But she’d anticipated that. She drew a steel star from her boot and, with a flick of her wrist, sent it flying.

It cleaved through the air and pinned Torj’s sleeve to a nearby tree.

‘I saidswords onlythis time,’ he grunted, his ice-blue eyes darkening in annoyance.

‘I have to use whatever advantage I have,’ Thea countered. She had honed a unique set of skills throughout her years of secret training, and she would use any and all of them to get what she wanted.

Torj’s muscles rippled as he removed the throwing star from his now torn sleeve as easily as though it were a piece of lint. ‘If you want me to keep training you with the others, you have tolisten.’

Thea knew she was being unfair, that it was more than generous of the Bear Slayer to step up and take her under his wing alongside his own apprentice, Cal, and their inseparable friend, Kipp. But Torj didn’t know her secret. He didn’t know the kind of devastation she could wreak upon the realm. He didn’t know that training her wasdangerous.

Where the fuck is Hawthorne?

Torj seemed to sense the cause of her agitation and gave a heavy sigh, no doubt fed up with her foul mood and endless questions. ‘He gave his word. He’ll be back when he can. He knows your training is his responsibility.’

‘Does he?’ Thea muttered.

‘Yes.’

‘He’s got a funny way of showing it.’

‘Enough whining, Zoltaire,’ Torj retorted. ‘If you’ve got time to complain, you’ve got time to spar with more than one opponent.’ He motioned to Cal. ‘You’re in. Kipp, you too.’

Thea rolled her sore shoulders, lifting her chin in defiance.Good.She wanted the challenge; sheneededit. It was the only thing that kept the storm at bay.

Her friends grimaced as they approached, weapons in hand. They had been on the receiving end of her renewed training obsession for weeks now and all three of them bore the injuries to prove it. But it was Thea who never gave in. It was Thea who insisted they continue, even when they were bleeding and broken on the ground.

If she couldn’t train with Hawthorne and she couldn’t talk with Wren, she would hone her rage into a weapon of its own.

Her sister’s name echoed through her like a bell. Thea hadn’t seen it coming, the betrayal, and the tightness in her chest hadn’t loosened since. It had only grown more taut, serving to fuel that tempest brewing inside her.

Thea took a deep breath and eyed up her opponents, determined to master the new strikes Torj had shown her. The golden-haired Warsword gave them a nod, and Thea launched herself into an attack. Her footwork was exact, the distribution of her weight flawless. Since the initiation, she had hardly put her sword down, had scarcely spent a second that wasn’t training some part of herself for battle.

It showed.

Sweat-slicked and aching, she whirled her sword overhead again and struck Cal first. Her friend raised his shield just in time, while Kipp circled at her back. She ignored the strained look on his face, the one that told her he didn’t recognise the snarling warrior before him as she advanced, striking with all her strength, carving, slashing and dodging as Cal came to Kipp’s side.

She told herself that this wasgood, that they needed her at her hardest and fiercest if they were to improve as well. The midrealms needed more elite warriors, now more than ever.

Kipp’s long-limbed, wiry build worked against him, and while Cal was lean and muscular, he didn’t have the Furies-given strength or agility of a Warsword. Not yet.

And so she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t go easy on them. She beat both of them back, forcing them to yield more and more ground to her.

Thea forgot her pain and exhaustion. Her anger, her magic and her ambition roiled into one powerful driving force as she duelled the pair. She lost herself in the rhythm of the fight, until the rest of the world faded away, until Torj’s words of warning sounded distant, as though directed at someone else.

They sounded like,Stop, Thea – I said stop!

But the challenge had her in its thrall.

That’s enough, Thea —

She barely registered the storm clouds gathering overhead.

Zoltaire, that’s an order!

She hardly noticed the sweat dripping down her face, or the horrified expressions of her friends. Raining down blow after blow, dirt clouding at her boots, wind whipping at her face, she sparred.

She lived for the clang of the steel. She could feel its song in her soul. A balm to the lightning coursing through her veins —