Page 28 of Shadebound (Dark Fantasy #1)

Maya chose a thin hooked knife that looked more ornamental than useful, but when she tested its weight, she spun it with surprising confidence.

I almost complimented her, but then she winked at me and pretended to shoot me with it, and I realised her ego didn’t need boosting.

Clearly, living with Zayden for so long had made her broken. And I was in no mood to pander to her.

“Tell me I look hot with a knife in my hand.” She ordered me.

My brows rose, eyes narrowed. “I would rather hug Hightower and invite her out for hawthorn tea.”

She turned to Eris without missing a beat, hand going to her hip. “Tell me I look hot with a knife in my hand.”

Eris looked her up and down, actually taking the demand seriously. “I think you look hot, Maya. You’re dangerously beautiful.”

The pair stared at each other for a second, a sudden tension in the air as Maya tilted her head, smirking. It lasted long enough for me to wonder if I ought to leave the room before Eris broke eye contact and ducked her head to pick a weapon.

She chose something stranger. Her weapon looked like a dagger carved from bone, etched with runes, the grip wrapped in faded leather. It gave off no glow, but the air around it sparkled with frost when she showed it to me with a shy smile.

“That’s morbid,” Maya commented, eyeing it with a wide stare.

“I get why I’ve never seen you around the academy before.

I avoid the crypt.” She didn’t take her eyes off the weapon.

“That’s what’s behind door one, by the way, J.

It takes you to the crypt and these gross dark tunnels.

Students aren’t meant to go down there.”

“It’s beautiful ,” I said honestly, trying to take the sting out of Maya’s teasing. “I enjoy bones. My bedroom back home has a chandelier made of the femurs of serial killers.”

Eris looked down, almost shy. “I use bone a lot in my seer work. For readings. I’m... comfortable with them. Your chandelier sounds cool—did you make it yourself?”

“I helped her make it a few summers ago. I wanted Heartache to have something I touched to stare at in her bed.” Zayden strolled past then, shirtless.

Again. Covered in sweat and smugness. I made the mistake of glancing—once—and only when I was sure he wasn’t looking.

His abs were unfair. But if he ever caught me looking, I’d never hear the end of it. He’d have been insufferable.

“Are you two dating?” Eris asked softly, her curiosity making my cheeks almost burn.

“Only in my dreams.” He replied as he grabbed some silver knuckledusters to slide over his busted hands. “She can do better than me, though. She needs a rich man to spoil her, with a big dick to fuck her good. I only fit the bill for one of those.”

“I didn’t know you were rich, Zayden.” Maya didn’t turn to look at him when she spoke, so she missed the finger he threw her way as he chuckled his way back to his team and Vadren ordered everyone to start the lesson.

We hurried back to the centre of the arena, listening to her instructions.

Each group had to rotate weapons with one another and attempt to work through a sequence of strikes and counters against the twitching dummies.

It was all relatively simple because Draven and I were new, and she wanted us to have one lesson to settle in before things got worse.

I was excited for the worse . Team activities were already disgusting enough. The only way it would have been moderately bearable was if someone was bleeding and I got to use my blades on actual flesh, not fake.

Perhaps dragon flesh.

The first round was easy. I sliced through a straw dummy cleanly each time it was my time to test a strike.

I wasn’t strong, but I knew how to let the sharpness of the metal do most of the work.

Maya struggled with her first few swings, but her footwork was solid.

What she lacked in strength, she made up for in quick reactions and observation.

Eris moved with eerie precision, her bone dagger sliding into joints like she’d studied anatomy just for fun.

It made me like her far more than the fact that she was silent for most of the class.

When we rotated, Maya handed me her blade. It was like a toy in my hands. Then when I gave her my curved weapons, she tried to flip one and nearly dropped it onto her own foot.

“Too heavy,” she muttered, nose scrunching. “My delicate lady arms are designed for none of this. I’m meant to sip tea and let men think for me. Not play in the dirt and with swords.”

My mind betrayed me and reminisced about fond memories. Although they were worse than sticking needles into my eyes.

“Remember when you and Bells hurled furniture at that banshee at summer camp?” I muttered as my boots dug into the sand. “I remember you throwing an entire keg at her when she called you a slut for kissing her ex-girlfriend after Bells dared you to.”

She winced but smiled softly. “Those barrels were lighter. And I was fuelled by petty amusement. This lesson doesn’t bring me anything other than boredom and the knowledge I will never make it as a soldier.

” She looked me dead in the eye, grinning ear to ear.

“I want you to remember like this, J. Hot, dangerous and alive. I need you to make sure nobody remembers me filthy, fucking up, and screaming because a worm touched me or something.”

My eyes rolled but I didn’t let the ache of my sister’s name stop me. I simply felt it. The tug in my chest. The cold spot just under my ribs. But I didn’t show it.

The only time I would allow myself to grieve and be weak was when her killer was dead.

“You survived that. You’ll survive this.” I replied.

We resumed as I adjusted my grip on Maya’s knife. It took a few practice tries, but it wasn’t so bad. Not that I was surprised. I wasn’t naturally talented with everything I picked up, but sharp objects were my thing.

I forced myself to relish the competence whilst it lasted, knowing just how poorly I would do when it came to fighting with my fists.

When we swapped places again, Maya tried to swing my blades but lost her balance. I caught her elbow, ignoring her huffing at the fact that ‘she sucked’.

“Lower your centre. Don’t lift—let the momentum do the work.” I moved her arm a bit. “You don’t suck, you just don’t feel used to the lightness of the blade. Yours weighs more.”

Eris attempted one of my blades next. Her movements were cautious, but she did decently well. Enough that I understood why Hightower had moved her up to the top class, despite her poor control over her magic.

As time moved on, we found an easy rhythm. The sand shifted under our boots with ease. Our blows landed harder. Breathing quickened into harsh pants. I almost felt good about it. Until I remembered this wasn’t a fun hangout with my friends. Nor was it an activity we did just because.

This was training. So one day, sooner rather than later, we would know what to do when we faced a monster in Mortavia.

So we could kill it before it killed us.

Before I could spiral too hard, Vadren clapped once. The sharp sound cracked through the air, slicing the arena’s noise in half.

“We’re done with weapons for now,” she said. “Now onto a few combat rounds to keep your senses sharp, then I’ll let you limp off to the showers and your next lesson.”

A few groans rippled through the gathered students, though most kept them quiet enough not to earn her attention. Others shifted restlessly, itching for the chance to hit someone with their fists instead of steel.

“Zayden, you first,” Vadren called, already marking the start of the next round. He didn’t break eye contact with me as he strode into the centre of the sand.

Vadren turned her head, eyes scanning the lineup. “You.” She pointed at a broad-shouldered werewolf near the back, his buzz cut a sharp line across his head, his expression unreadable.

The guy—Marcus—grunted as he stepped forward. He walked like he’d been in enough brawls to stop caring whether he won or lost. His hands curled into fists as he dropped beside Zayden.

Vadren kept going, eyes roaming the group until they settled beside me. “Maya.”

Maya strode onto the sand, her posture loose but focused. She looked light on her feet, her expression cool. She shook her arms out, rolled her shoulders, and stretched her neck from side to side.

“And... you.” Vadren’s hand flicked toward a smaller boy hovering near the edge. The one with twitching wings and skin that glittered faintly in the light. “Callen, step forward.”

Callen blinked as if he’d been named in a death sentence, but he still flew forward, hovering a little above the sand before touching down lightly beside Maya.

“First two to defeat an opponent win,” Vadren said flatly. “You may begin.”

Zayden moved the moment the words left her mouth. He didn’t run or charge—he sidestepped, letting Marcus thunder past him like a charging animal. Callen darted to intercept, but Zayden turned with almost lazy timing and let the fairy overshoot.

Then Zayden tapped Callen on the shoulder from behind.

The poor boy whirled, already off-balance, and Zayden swept a leg out to give him a swift kick to the stomach. Callen’s wings fluttered wildly, but he couldn’t recover in time—he crashed backward into the sand, landing hard on his tailbone, wings crumpling beneath him.

Zayden stood over him and bowed, theatrical and smugly. “And that’s what we call a one-star performance.”

I didn’t laugh, but it was difficult not to let my mouth twitch.

Maya’s side was less showy. Marcus lunged at her with his arms wide, trying to grab and overpower.

She ducked under the first swipe and drove a fast elbow into his stomach.

He stumbled, and she didn’t give him a second to regroup.

She twisted, pivoted, and used her full body weight to land a hook across his jaw.

He staggered sideways, his feet slipping in the sand, and she followed up with a sweep that knocked him flat.