Page 31

I arrived at the canteen precisely at seven o’clock. Empty chairs and tables sat scattered in the dim lighting, and for a second, I thought I’d beaten Hunter here, but as soon as I stepped further in, his voice cut through the quiet.

“You’re late,” he said, arms crossed as he leaned casually against one of the tables.

“By, like, thirty seconds.”

He smirked, pushing off the table as he motioned for me to follow. “You just cut your training time in half, but I’ll be gracious.”

I snorted, falling into step beside him as he led me toward the back of the kitchen.

We were both in our Warrior attires, save for the jacket and my hair was no longer up in a ponytail or plait.

The lights flickered dimly as we moved through stacks of crates and shelves.

“So, where exactly are we going? The canteen hardly screams ‘training ground’ unless we’re having a few snacks first before I start learning.

I wouldn’t mind that; I quite like the canteen’s apple crumble. ”

He glanced down at me with an amused glint in his eyes. “There’s a passageway here. It leads to the armory.”

I blinked, a rush of excitement and confusion bubbling up. “There’s an armory here? Like where they keep every single weapon ever used?”

Hunter chuckled at my reaction and nodded. “The armory is pretty strictly controlled by the angels, but I figured out a way to it years ago.”

We stopped at a wall of cabinets that looked like they held stacks of canned goods. With a swift glance to make sure no one was watching, Hunter reached up and twisted one of the handles. The wall shifted with a low mechanical groan, sliding open to reveal a narrow, shadowed corridor.

“What in the haunted mansion...” I muttered as Hunter walked past me. His lips curved into a half-smile, and it shocked me because this was the most I had seen him smile in the space of two minutes.

“Why are we here?” I whispered as we made our way through the dark corridor. “I thought we’d be training—oh, I don’t know—outside?”

“This is your training.”

I laughed, waiting for him to crack another smile, but he didn’t. “Oh, you’re serious? You’re just going to throw me into the armory?”

We both stopped, and he turned halfway, studying me like I was missing the obvious. “If you’re going to train to a Warriors standard, you need to know each weapon inside and out. What it does, how it feels in your hand, and, most importantly, how it reacts to you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. It was more than just holding a sword or swinging daggers left and right.

“Alright, fine, but what if I already know all about angelic weapons?”

Hunter’s mouth twitched as he took me down the steps into a vast dungeon-like room with thousands of weapons dotting the place. He led me to a rack and held up a strange, curved blade. “What’s this called, then?”

I stared at the weapon, racking my brain. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t name it to save my life. “That?” I pointed at it. “Well, that’s a—” I started making gestures with my hand as if I were digging at the ground. “Fling...flinger?”

“Thought so,” he said.

I scowled, feeling a blush rise. “Fine. Educate me then, since you’re obviously the expert.”

“I am, thanks for acknowledging that.”

I fought not to roll my eyes, and for the next hour or so, he guided me through each weapon—naming them, explaining their strengths and drawbacks, and how they were meant to be used.

He was thorough, his voice low and smooth as he spoke.

There was a surprising passion in the way he talked about each one, and it was shocking to see him so animated.

After a while, he stepped back, watching me. “Alright, now pick one.”

I looked over the selection, my eyes trailing across the various blades, staffs and bows.

After a moment, I reached for a dagger with a jagged, obsidian blade.

It felt cold and smooth in my hand as I studied it.

The dagger was called a Nightsteel. According to Hunter, it was forged from the nightmares demons inflicted on souls in hell.

It could render someone in a nightmare-like state if injured with it.

“Good choice,” Hunter murmured. “Now show me how you’d use it on me.”

I laughed, glancing up at him. “What, you want me to just... attack you with this?”

He didn’t blink, didn’t so much as even flinch. “If you’re serious about training, you’ve got to go all in. So, what are you waiting for?” He took a step back, giving me enough space to lunge at him.

I gripped the dagger tighter. This was probably the only time I’d get a free shot at him, and I was more than willing to take it.

I rushed toward him, aiming for his side, but he sidestepped effortlessly, his hand snapping out to grab my wrist and twisting it just enough that the dagger clattered from my grip.

“Again,” he said, and I huffed in annoyance.

Picking the dagger up, I went for him again, but he moved faster than I could react, and before I knew it, he spun me around, pressing me back against the wall. My breath hitched, the adrenaline thrumming through me as his dark gaze held mine.

“Not bad.” His voice was barely a whisper. “But you’re still too predictable. Did you know that in this position, I could quite easily knock you out?”

I swallowed, feeling my pulse race. His hold on me made my skin tingle with every inch of distance he wasn’t giving me.

“All I would need to do is place my thumb and forefinger behind your neck and press...”

Just as he leaned in, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, and we both froze.

Hunter’s head snapped toward the noise, his hand slowly releasing my wrist as he listened.

“What is it?” I whispered in anticipation.

“Celestials.” Hunter’s gaze met mine, and without saying another word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a set of pillars. He pressed his fingers to his lips, and I held my breath, praying we wouldn’t get caught.

Heavy footsteps echoed off the stone walls, and through a narrow gap, I caught a glimpse of Nadael and Joe walking into the armory. Their voices were hushed, and something about how they moved—guarded, almost conspiratorial—made me tense up.

“The Riftkeeper’s are getting too close,” Joe muttered. “If they discover where she is...”

“Then we need to ensure it doesn’t happen. Grace’s location must be kept a secret, no matter the cost.”

My location?

“Hiding her won’t be enough forever. The Riftkeeper’s are relentless; you know that.”

I felt my heart pound. What the hell did they mean?

I wanted to speak, but Hunter held onto me so closely I could hardly breathe.

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her,” Nadael said, and I gasped as Hunter’s grip around my waist tightened. He quickly smothered any noise I made with the palm of his hand, and both Nadael and Joe turned in our direction as if they’d heard me.

“No,” Joe said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the pillars. “That will only cause her to feel suffocated, and we both know—” His gaze met Nadael’s. “She already feels that way.”

“Then we will do what is necessary for now to protect her,” Nadael said quietly, and their voices faded as they began making their way up the stairs.

Hunter shifted beside me, gently releasing his hand from my mouth.

My chest heaved as he let go of me, and I shook my head. “You were hurting me.”

His eyes softened into regret. “I didn’t mean to.”

I exhaled, knowing there was so much to unpack from what we’d heard. From what I’d heard.

I knew Joe had been protecting me from the Riftkeeper’s ever since he took me into his care, but why were they going to all these lengths to protect me?

“Grace—” Hunter started, but I stopped him.

“I think I have an idea,” I whispered, needing to focus on something else. “For finding Aaron.”

Hunter’s eyes flickered, cautious. “Are you basing this off what you just heard? Because believe me, Grace, I’ve been searching—”

“Joe said the Riftkeeper’s are getting close,” I cut him off. “Maybe we can find out more about that and go to—”

“You’re not going out looking for a Riftkeeper hideout when they just said they are trying to protect you from them.”

“You said I could help you.”

“It’s risky,” he admitted and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I’m putting you in danger—”

“Since when has that ever mattered to you?”

He didn’t like that. His sharp eyes snapped at me, challenging me to say another word. He confused me more than anyone ever has.

Did he hate me?

Did he want me gone?

Did he want to protect me?

Or did he not want to carry another person’s blood on his hands?

“Let’s just go before someone sees us,” he said at last in defeat.

I frowned internally, knowing that was the last thing I wanted to do. Leave.