Page 53 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

I had never questioned his true motives before.

But this was treason.

By the time I reached the ring, my squad had already gathered, stretching and adjusting their new gear.

Riven caught my eye and tossed something toward me. I snatched it out of the air, glancing down to find a flaky biscuit and a handful of fruit.

“Figured you’d need this,” she said.

“Bless you,” I muttered, already taking a bite as I stepped beside her.

Zander stood at the center of the training ring, his expression as unreadable as ever.

Why was he so interested in our squad?

He wasn’t our official trainer. With the exception of Cordelle and Tae, we weren’t even considered cadets yet. So why had hetaken such an interest in us when it was painfully obvious that nobody else wanted to?

Zander turned, nodding toward Cade, who leaned lazily against a post outside the ring, his sword strapped to his back.

“Cade, you’re up,” Zander said.

Cade sighed dramatically but stepped forward, unbuckling his sword and placing it on the ground before reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off in one fluid motion.

Riven let out a soft, appreciative whistle.

Then Zander followed suit, shrugging off his own flight jacket before stripping off his black undershirt.

Riven made a choking sound.

I took a bite of my biscuit and wiggled my eyebrows at her.

Jax groaned. “Really, ladies?”

Ferrula, who rarely spoke, nodded. “I wouldn’t kick either one of them out of bed for eating crackers.”

Naia laughed, shaking her head, and Zander’s sharp gaze snapped toward her.

“Is there a problem, Prospect Naia?”

Naia grinned shamelessly. “No problem, Lieutenant. Just enjoying the show—I mean, the instruction.”

Cade turned toward her and winked.

Zander exhaled through his nose and rolled his shoulders before squaring off against Cade.

“Let’s begin. Cade, use your dagger,” Zander said.

The teasing vanished as Cade and Zander faced off, their movements precise, like coiled storms ready to break.

Both men slipped into fighting stances, bare hands loose at their sides, daggers gleaming in their grips.

Cade moved first, lightning-fast, his dagger flashing toward Zander’s ribs in a sharp, upward arc.

Zander twisted at the last second, the blade slicing through empty air instead of flesh.

Before Cade could fully reset his stance, Zander struck back—a sharp jab with the hilt of his dagger aimed straight for Cade’s shoulder.

Cade blocked it, deflecting the strike just in time, then pivoted low, aiming a sweeping kick toward Zander’s knee.