Page 11

I was late.

Unbelievably late.

I stumbled out of my room, desperately trying to tie the laces of my combat boots while awkwardly hopping around the empty dorm.

The boys were long gone, and of course, in their infinite kindness, they’d forgotten to wake me up.

Silas and Brandon already knew I was staying here.

After last night’s tiff with Hunter, they ended up coming out of the shower to find me in the center of the room, still trying to understand what had happened between Hunter and me.

Two hours later, I was listening to Silas and Brandon list their rules on door locks and leaving girl stuff in the bathroom.

“Fucking great,” I muttered to myself when I opened the fridge and found the carton of orange juice empty.

Slamming the fridge door closed, I settled on no breakfast for the second day in a row and left the dorm with my hair in a mess, the map of the academy upside down and my tactical trousers loose on my hips.

The academy grounds were already full of Ascendants walking through pathways and the forest coating each inch of this place.

The map crinkled in my hand as I sped up and rounded the corner to where Ascendants clad in blue combat jackets stood in the middle of the muddy training grounds, either sparring or working out.

I dragged back a sharp inhale and made my way towards everyone.

There was no sign of Celestial or the so-called Azrael, as it was written on my timetable, but there was a dozen weapons scattered on the ground.

They looked like your standard swords, bows, and arrows, but I knew they were more than that.

The silver engraving of wings and ethereal shapes on some of the blades made me believe that they were angelic blades, the ones I would always overhear Joe speak about.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, and we haven’t even started training yet.”

I spun around, startled to find a blonde guy in a Warrior’s uniform, chuckling as his eyes fell on the crumpled map, I was clutching onto like a lifeline.

He was a few good feet taller, with classic good looks—sharp features, cropped hair and striking blue eyes that gave him an air of familiarity, though I couldn’t quite place who exactly.

“I—” Was too flustered to form a proper sentence.

“Lucas James,” he introduced himself, extending a hand.

I hesitated, then reluctantly took it. “Grace... Martin.”

His eyes lit up with recognition as he released my hand. “Ah, so you’re the one who left my sister rattled after her class.”

Sister—?

It clicked. I suddenly realized why he looked so familiar, and my eyes widened. “Oh my God—I’m—”

“Relax,” he laughed, waving it off. “My sister finds an excuse to hate on everyone.”

That didn’t make me feel better.

“She’s just thrown off by someone who isn’t an Ascendant being here,” he added with a shrug.

I nodded, feeling the familiar weight of that fact settle on me. It wasn’t just his sister who felt that way—nearly everyone had made it clear since I first arrived.

“But don’t let it get to you,” he added quickly, noticing the shift in my expression. “She’ll eventually get over it. They all will.”

“And you?” I asked. “Are you thrown off by it?”

He shook his head. “There are worse things to worry about than a human at Celestia.”

I frowned, mulling over his words. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t so sure everyone else shared his perspective.

Before I could ask another question, someone shouted, “Cain!”

My shoulders tensed, and my gaze snapped towards everyone else, searching for him in the crowd.

There he was with his familiar figure in sight as he slapped Brandon on the back of his head, and Silas laughed hysterically alongside them.

The air shifted as I swallowed hard, and almost as if he could feel my stare on him, he turned his head, his eyes locking on mine.

He froze, and I saw a flicker of anger ignite within him when he noticed I was dressed in the same uniform as him.

Without a word, he cut off whatever Brandon was saying and strode toward me.

I thought about running, but what good would that do? It would just paint me as a coward.

Before Lucas could even help me, Hunter was already grabbing my arm as he pulled me to the side and away from everyone else, where no one could hear us.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.

I tried yanking free from his hold, but there was no give. “I’m here—” I pulled again, glaring up at him. “To—” Another yank, and at last, I was free. “ Train .”

His gaze turned cold. “Right, and I’m here to sit back and relax beneath the lovely English weather.”

I gazed at the cloudy sky and its grey color, darkening the morning.

Hunter swore under his breath before grabbing my wrist and dragging me along with him. “Come on.”

“What? No!” I pulled against him, seeing that he was trying to take me back to where the dorm was. “I’m not leaving this class. I was put in here, and I plan on staying.” I’m not, of course, telling him that I made Nadael place me here.

He stopped, and I almost stumbled into him as he turned to face me. His jaw tensed as his eyes scanned the training grounds. “You know you’re really doing a great job at giving me headaches.”

I smiled up at him. “Thank you! Joe tells me it’s a gift, and I like to think it’s better than what an Ascendant has to offer in terms of powers—”

“What will it take for you to get out of this place?”

It went silent between us, and I could feel the stares of people watching, but it didn’t seem to matter.

My lips pursed as I stared at his face and the anger brimming on the surface of his grey eyes. It almost looked like smoke. “You can’t make me leave.”

He grew more frustrated; his jaw about to pop. “Trust me, I can make you do anything. Just give me a couple of days, and you’ll see.”

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I thought about slapping him this time around, but before I could act on the impulse, a sharp voice cut through the tension, stopping both of us cold.

“I didn’t expect one of my best trainees to be such a talker.”

Hunter stepped away from me as we both snapped our heads to the side.

Standing there was who I assumed was Azrael.

Unlike the rest of the Celestials, he didn’t wear a robe or any combat gear.

Instead, he wore a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit as if he had stepped out of a high-powered meeting rather than an academy for wannabe angels.

The suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders while his high cheekbones and dark, slicked-back hair added to the intimidating aura that practically emanated from him.

“I was just informing the new girl that she is in the wrong class,” Hunter said while Azrael watched me. There was something unsettling in his green gaze, as though he was constantly assessing... constantly one step ahead.

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing and his voice a deepening sound of curiosity.

“According to Nadael... she’s in the right class.

” His gaze slid towards Hunter, and it lingered on him for a few seconds before he turned and walked through the mud as if he didn’t care whether it messed up his slacks or not.

It felt like I hadn’t breathed at all during that interaction, and as I looked up at Hunter, I could tell he was even more pissed than before.