Chapter 20
The divide was crystal clear, I realized as I stepped into the dining halls.
It was just like the tavern with Silvers to one side and Azures to the other.
I stood at the threshold as that sense of not belonging returned. I was an Azure, proud to be one, had suffered alongside my people—but I wasn’t like these Azures. I was less powerfully built and didn’t have an animal form to shift into.
And now I was the tygress rider, uniform bedecked with the tygers of the Silver Dominion.
I belonged with Flame. I had missed her today.
I visited her after that final, exhausting run, both of us taking pleasure in my grooming her.
But it felt wrong to be apart during training.
Our Bond was deep, like the roots of an ancient tree joining the lonely, ragged pieces of my heart.
She gave me purpose and something more. Something that I didn’t have a name for but had longed for all the same.
“Rubi?” Quinn’s loud, jovial voice rang out. My eyes darted to the far left table where Calla and Quinn both sat, with a few other Azures at their table and the one over.
Their clothes were dyed in earth tones or left plain, worn soft and easy against their skin. Bits of wood, feathers, and polished stone decorated braids and necklaces, rattling softly as they moved. Their free laughter rang out.
There were easily five times as many Silvers, though they kept at least a table between themselves and any Azures.
Eyes all stuck to me as I moved. How long would it take for the novelty of my atypical circumstances to wear off?
“Hey,” I said, sliding in beside Calla and Quinn. The others eyed me warily.
At least it was easy to see where I stood with everyone.
Calla introduced me across the table quickly, though I didn’t absorb their names. I was distracted by the burn of ice blue eyes across the room.
Blake Axefire, glaring from his table on the right.
He was seated next to Princess Malissa, who played with the ends of her hair, eyes focused on Ire as he spoke with a mouthful of food. Jace sat across from them, his back to me, though his shoulders shook as he laughed with one of the warriors next to him, one I didn’t recognize.
Blake’s gaze stayed on me until Malissa pulled at his arm and turned him toward her. I didn’t miss the flare of her eyes over me before she turned his attention away.
Calla popped up to grab a basket of tea eggs from a passing server. “Wishing you’d sat with them?” She twirled with careless ease before settling onto the bench beside me, not dropping a single egg. “It’s fine if you want to.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
Calla smiled before Quinn wrapped his arm over my shoulder to shove at her.
“You’re such a show-off, Calla, honestly.”
“C’mon,” she cheered. “The Silver ironnecks are very aware of how free we are. We might as well enjoy it.”
Laughter rippled across the table, Calla’s face bright with mischief. My eyes caught on her arm, on a set of braided leather bracelets that were a shimmering copper and gold. “I like your bracelets. They’re the color of Flame’s fur.”
Slipping one off her wrist, Calla handed it to me.
“Oh—no, I’m—”
“I have tons,” she said, grabbing my wrist and slipping it on, featherlight and flexible compared to the solid jade bracelet on my other wrist.
“It’s beautiful.”
Calla’s eyes crinkled with warmth. “My mom used to make them for us—she had a litter of girls, me and my three sisters. We called them our sister bracelets, and said that if we wore them, we’d always be connected.” She nodded to my wrist. “We can call ours friendship bracelets.”
For a moment, I wanted to scoff. To deflect the well of emotion rising like a tide within me. But kindness, especially in a place such as this, was a gift.
“Friends,” I said. “I like that.”
—
The next morning my muscles were stiff and sore. I’d tried to stretch but ran out of time—I wouldn’t risk the embarrassment of being late again. Though as I approached the field—on time—it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me anyway, and the tygers had a new energy.
Flame appeared next to me. My rider. I have been waiting.
I am happy to see you. But everyone is staring. I looked around at the other warriors.
My first time here. Un-Bonded tygers train separately. Come on, let’s go.
But fighting from a tyger’s back was not the elegant, heroic art the warriors made it seem.
It was fast and unforgiving.
We rode in a wide, open training field, marked by rings and targets. The others took turns charging at full speed, striking with lances, swords, or whips, their movements fluid and powerful.
Jace wielded his lance with deadly precision, while Blake’s strikes sent up bursts of dust and splintered wood as he destroyed target after target.
Malissa used twin swords, her movements fast and exact, carving through the heavy dummies without hesitation.
And me? I was an unmitigated disaster.
The sword was too heavy. The lance even worse. My fingers ached just trying to keep a grip. Every time I lifted a weapon, it threw me off-balance, nearly unseating me. Flame tried to compensate, shifting smoothly beneath me, but there was only so much she could do. And I was so sore.
Ire was all brute power on the field, riding Wrath like a born warlord. His lance moved as a part of him, every strike precise and brutal, his tyger matching each motion in perfect sync.
Mid-charge, his eyes found mine. He shifted his grip, angling the lance toward me with a smirk. Slowly, deliberately, he aimed the tip at my chest. A threat.
I swallowed.
Then Wrath surged forward, and Ire destroyed the real target with one clean, merciless blow.
When I had to spar against Malissa, she barely moved her feet as she parried my strike with a single, effortless motion.
“This is pathetic,” she said, loud enough for the others to hear. “Do you enjoy embarrassing yourself?”
Flame snarled. My grip tightened. “I’m learning.”
Malissa arched one perfect brow. “Oh? Is that what you call it?” She stepped forward, fast enough to force me back. “Because from where I stand, it seems as if you’re fighting like a weakling, Azure.”
Heat crawled up my neck, but before I could react, she struck.
Her blade knocked mine clean from my hands, tossing me off Flame. A heartbeat later, the cold kiss of steel was at my throat.
Malissa leaned in just enough so I could hear her whisper: “You don’t belong here. And stay away from what’s mine.” She stalked away.
I stared after her a moment, her words sinking in. What was she talking about? Did she mean Blake?
Ire stepped toward me and extended a hand to help me up—blatantly ignoring Flame’s warning growls.
He loomed over me, waiting. I caught Blake’s gaze where he was supposed to be overseeing the other battles, though his eyes kept flickering to my circle.
“An Azure who trains with Silvers,” Ire said, pulling me to stand, then jostling me close. “Both you and that tygress of yours need to be controlled by a firm hand.” A pause. A slow, deliberate smirk as he looked me up and down. “Mine.”
I shuddered with revulsion.
To my surprise, Jace stepped forward in my defense. “Very well, Ire. I think we’ve all seen your battle prowess. Go.”
A few of the other warriors watched as Ire stalked away, his eyes promising revenge.
“How about you try me, Rubi?” Jace said, his voice playful. I smiled.
“Hand-to-hand this time. Let Flame rest and eat, someone will escort her back.”
I will not leave while you remain, Flame protested.
Dear one, thank you, but go. I must train so I don’t embarrass you.
I am rather magnificent, but so are you. On the inside, at least. Okay, you might have a point.
I gave a snort of laughter while Flame chuffed in my mind as she ambled off.
Jace turned to look at the Ambush Master, waiting for some signal before whistling with two fingers at his lips. “All to the pens. Grooming, feeding, rest. Tomorrow the worst of it begins.”
He spoke with a wide smile, reveling in the quiet groans. While Jace’s training style was more relaxed and friendly than Blake’s, it was still just as difficult.
Once the training field was cleared, I stepped up, waiting to see what weapon Jace might choose for me.
“A sword?”
Jace shook his head. “You are not ready to fight me. Perhaps we try a different approach.” He grabbed a fine bow off the far weapons wall; a quiver of arrows hung beside it.
“Have you shot before?”
I nodded but grimaced. “Shot, yes. Hit my target, no.”
Jace laughed, handing me the weapons and gently guiding me with a hand on the center of my back toward the target, far enough away that I grew worried.
“That’s all right. I’ll help you.”
Stretching his arms out as if to say, Show me what you’ve got, Jace stepped back and crossed his arms to watch.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my grip. My fingers trembled around the string, the arrow’s nock slipping slightly as I struggled to find the right tension. A simple wooden target stood across the field.
I loosed the arrow, but it flew only halfway across before dropping.
Again.
And again. And again.
I gritted my teeth, adjusted my stance, and was pulling the string back again when Jace stepped toward me.
“You’re overcompensating. Just ease into your instincts.” His voice was edged with amusement.
I let the bow dangle with a frustrated sigh, my arms aching from holding it too tightly. The string bit into my fingers, leaving faint red marks.
“Oh, sure—that’s helpful,” I muttered sarcastically under my breath.
Jace chuckled, the sound low and unbothered. He wasn’t just good—he was a natural with almost any weapon, but with the bow, he was something else entirely. Effortless, every shot a clean strike, as if the bow itself listened when he touched it.
“Here.” He moved in closer, his hands light but firm as he adjusted my grip. “Relax your shoulders. You’re too tense.”
His fingers skimmed over my arms, correcting my posture, guiding my elbow just a fraction higher. I could feel the warmth of him at my back, his presence grounding. The silver cuff he always wore clinked against my jade bracelet.
My magic started humming, a cadence I’d never felt before.
Like…resonance. A vibration beneath my skin, steady and undeniable. As if I’d found something that fit.
“That’s better,” Jace murmured, his voice near my ear. “Now draw back.”
The bow felt lighter as I pulled back. I held my breath, sighting down the shaft of the arrow. Jace’s fingers guided mine, his presence steady. He leaned in further—
A low, sharp creak filled the air.
Jace stilled, cheek nearly beside mine.
I dropped the arrow, distracted, as one of the metal practice dummies a few feet away warped, the steel groaning against itself as if under some invisible pressure.
I felt him before I saw him.
Blake.
Standing several paces away, watching. His arms crossed, his expression cool.
Jace arched a brow at him. “A shame,” he mused, his voice pitched just loud enough. “I really thought she was going to make that one.”
“Training is done,” Blake said. His steely gaze clashed with mine. “Morningtail, get out of here.”
“I didn’t—”
“Jace, you’ve been summoned. Now,” he commanded.
Jace nodded at me before sweeping past to follow the angry Ambush Master out.