Chapter 10
It’s not accidental that I’m in the gym at the precise time Ziv brings Briar in. He told me about his plan to train her, and I think it’s smart. She should know how to protect herself. Ivy Institute is dangerous enough, and that’s only while training for the real trials next year.
Heads turn as they walk through the center of the sparring ring, but they never slow. He leads her straight to the doors of the smaller field, where there will be no witnesses, not even me. A curse leaves my lips, and the female ten feet away from me who wields fire lets a glowing orb splat into the sand and fizzle out as she stares at me like she thinks I’m about to slaughter her where she stands.
“What’s your problem?” she barks when she realizes I caught her staring like a scared cat.
Instead of answering, I lunge forward as if I am going to try to touch her, and she backpedals so fast, she ends up on her ass in the sand, staring up at me with an open mouth. “It would never be you,” I tell her truthfully.
When I glance at the now closed doors of the other pit, I catch one of the other instructors watching me. He’s not as big as Ziv, though not many are, but he’s still larger than your average male. He doesn’t look as if he would try to stop me if I killed the girl, but I don’t need the extra attention, especially now, so I resume my solo training, ignoring both of them.
I bide my time by coming up with ideas on how I could get into the smaller ring unnoticed, but fail the execution. My only option would be to go full shade and hope no one would notice a disconnected shadow slinking through the arena, looking for a crack to slip through.
When I need to leave two hours later, they still haven’t emerged from the other space. There’s a big part of me that wants to stay put until I at least catch a glimpse of my creature, but not attending to my other duties would be noticed.
I leave the sparring field with just enough time to clean up and make it to my class with Mistress Myers. It will be the first time I’ve seen her since finding Briar on the road, and her slow response about the situation still pisses me off. Just like most of the classes here, hers is a waste of time for me. I don’t need help honing or strengthening my ability, and there’s no way to dampen it to only inflict pain. My touch kills, there’s no way around it, and I’ve never hated it more than I do right now.
The hall darkens around me—a sure sign I’m collecting shadows. I don’t bother trying to lighten my mood or the shades, since it would be pointless.
I mop my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt, longing to work with the bow again. I thought my arms were tired then, but it was nothing compared to how weak I feel now. Ziv has been putting me through the wringer for the last hour. I’ve decided I hate him, even though I can’t seem to take my eyes off him when he demonstrates what I’m supposed to be doing. He makes everything look so freaking effortless, which makes me feel like a lump of shit because I know I’m about as graceful as a headless chicken.
When I try to swing the sword again, my legs give out, and I collapse in a heap. Thankfully, I don’t impale myself on the blade. Maybe I should have tried. I wince and spit out a mouthful of sand. At least I didn’t inhale it this time.
“You’re as weak as a kitten.” Ziv hurls the insult at me, and it hurts, even though he could easily say much worse.
“I know. You should kick me out of here,” I reply after lifting my cheek off the ground.
A heavy weight lands on my back, and breathing becomes my top priority. I start to panic when I realize what it is—Ziv has his entire body pressed against mine with his forearm barred across the back of my shoulders so my face is pushed into the sand. Even now, his dark cherry scent invades my senses in a way that confuses the hell out of me. My brain knows I need to get him off me if I want to breathe, but my body is quite content under him. I don’t think I possess survival instincts. How have I lived for so long?
My mind is getting thick, making my eyes heavy. “Fight me,” he bellows near my ear, and that more than anything spurs me to move. The only problem is, every time I wiggle to get free, I sink deeper and deeper into the grit.
“You’re too…heavy!” I scream in desperation.
“Your opponent will always be bigger, so find an advantage.” He’s no longer yelling, and I swear he removed just a little of the pressure he was using to hold me down. That’s when I see my only hope. His wrist is near enough to my face, and I only have one shot at this. It might get me killed, but I doubt I have much time left anyway, considering he’s smothering me. I snap my head forward as much as I can, sink my teeth into his wrist, and bite down.
Belatedly, I hear a sound that should terrify me—it’s a guttural growl that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, or maybe it’s the electric current running through me causing that reaction.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize I should release his wrist, but I can’t make my jaw unlock, and that’s before the taste of his blood hits my tongue. I let out an indecent moan and claw at the sand in a bid to get even closer to him. The first swallow has stars erupting in my vision, and the second eases something inside me I didn’t know was raw. The third ignites a fire that sears every nerve ending in my body. I don’t get a fourth.
I hear the snarl again, the one that should frighten me, but it’s farther away this time, and I actually long to feel it against the back of my neck. It’s then I realize the weight crushing me is gone, leaving me with an emptiness that hurts beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Damn it!” is thundered so loudly, it rattles the entire space around me. I do nothing. If I were in charge of my body in this moment, surely I would be dead. I can’t feel my limbs, let alone process what’s happening.
I feel my body shift, but not because I moved. “Open your eyes,” Ziv pleads with an air of desperation. I feel bad. He thinks he killed me, but it’s really my fault. I can’t go around biting people, especially gods, because they have some kind of fire in their blood that’s addicting—damn, he smells even better now—and will turn you into mush. My brain is probably leaking out of my ear right now.
“Briar!” My teeth snap together when he shakes me. “Fucking hell, you bit me, little flower, or maybe I should call you my little thorn,” he coos softly, and I feel his breath across my face. If I were able to form words, I might apologize, but I doubt it. He tasted divine, and I can’t even bring myself to regret it.
“I would have warned you if I knew, but you surprised me.” He almost sounds proud. That’s better than sounding guilty, like he did at first. “I wanted to give you time to come to terms with this, but we no longer have a choice. If I don’t return the bond, you could die, and I won’t risk it.”
I feel my head fall back, then something soft trails up my throat, the heat in my veins centered under the spot on my neck.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Are those his lips brushing against my skin?
A scream splits the air, and I realize it’s coming from me. The pain that caused the involuntary reaction is already becoming a distant memory, replaced with euphoric pleasure I feel all the way down to my toes. The blissful sensation loops back through me, doubling until I reach a precipice I know there’s no coming back from.
Ziv’s tongue sweeps over my throat, and I have a full body orgasm. There’s no other way to describe the heavenly experience.
As the feelings of ecstasy fade much too quickly, it’s replaced with awareness. That was, in fact, Ziv’s tongue. I know because he’s still kissing and licking my throat, and I have no desire to stop him. He also bit me. It’s not as if I could be mad, since I bit him first, plus it felt like I literally tasted heaven, but it feels like I’m missing something big. It’s just on the other side of my thoughts, but I can’t focus on it because he’s still distracting me.
“Briar?” My name sounds different coming from his lips now, or maybe it’s because it’s still muffled against my skin.
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, surprising myself that I’m capable of that much.
“You bit me first,” he reminds me.
“You told me to survive. It was the only thing that came to mind.” My voice sounds raspy, like I’ve been shouting for a long time.
Ziv makes a sound that could be a chuckle, but I’m not sure he’s able to make a noise like that, so I can’t be sure I heard it correctly. “Not only did you survive, you also managed to initiate our bond.”
“Our bond?” I question dumbly.
“Don’t tell me you can’t feel it, little flower.” He manages to sound both sweet and chastising, which shouldn’t be possible. I tilt my head back so he can kiss higher up my neck.
“I feel something,” I admit.
“I can’t say I’m upset. Now that your life is tied to mine, you will be much less…fragile, but I just want you to know I didn’t plan on rushing it, even though it nearly killed me every time I had to walk away from you, leaving you unprotected.”
“My life is tied to yours?” This should be concerning, but his kisses are like drugs. I can’t help the way he’s affecting me. He is a god, after all.
“Body and soul.” Ziv runs his hand down the center of my body, stopping when his palm is low on my belly, far below my belly button. Normally, I avoid anyone touching me there, or most places really, but there’s no part of me that wants him to take his hands off me.
There’s a loud explosion, but I still can’t be bothered about anything other than Ziv’s grip and how it’s tightening around me. I feel drunk. It must be a side effect of his blood, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself anyway.
“You didn’t think it was important to tell me she is your mate?” The cold voice cuts through my happy, fuzzy thoughts.
“Apparently not.” Ziv’s reply is glib. I miss his lips on my throat immensely, but their absence helps me clear my head. Did she say mate?
“She is a student,” the cold, feminine voice rebukes.
“And that matters to whom?” Ziv bends and releases his hold on the backs of my legs, prompting me to stand. I don’t even remember getting off the sand, let alone being held against his chest. My legs feel weak, but not as bad as they did before I collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. Oh my gods, was he really kissing my neck?
The headmistress comes into focus, and a sense of dread slowly begins to build. She seems pissed, and I think it will be much easier for her to take out that frustration on me than it would be on Ziv, not to mention there’s this strange need to protect him that makes me move so I stand in front of him. It’s pointless, he’s easily two heads taller than me, but the sentiment is there, even if I don’t understand it.
“It matters to me. She was brought here as an asset to be used in the tournament.”
“She is still an asset,” Ziv counters, but it’s the mention of a tournament that sends up red flags, and did she say mate earlier? Why does my head feel like it’s filled with cotton?
With a hand on my shoulder, Ziv keeps me in place, then moves to stand next to me, angling his body in a way that almost seems like he’s the one in front of me now. I can barely see the headmistress around him, but I hear her harrumph of disapproval. I know better than to ask questions now, but I want to.
“Her ability will need to be tested,” she insists, as if she’s expecting an argument.
“I will test and train her myself,” Ziv counters, but then he takes a measured step forward. The shift in his body language should be a warning to anyone smart enough to notice. “But she will not be used, Syrinx. Not by anyone, including you.”
The headmistress lets out a laugh, and it makes me cringe. Something about it is so wrong, all the hair on my body stands on end. “How very sweet it must be to be so special.” There’s still some mirth in her tone, but the cackling has died off. “All of us are used, Ziv. You’d think someone as ancient as you would understand that, but I’ll leave you with your delusions. Just make sure this doesn’t become a problem.”
The door shuts quietly, the only indication I receive that she’s gone, but I don’t feel a sense of relief with her absence.
“What tournament?” I question, because I can’t wrap my head around the mate comment yet. I’m sure I heard that wrong or there’s some other explanation for her bringing it up.
Ziv peers over his shoulder, his brows lowered in suspicion. “The Undertaking.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
He turns to face me fully, still squinting. “You don’t know of it?”
“No, but I’m getting the feeling I should.”
“If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would think you were lying to me.”
“Why would I lie about not knowing? I don’t enjoy feeling like a rube.” In fact, I hate feeling like I’m in the dark. I have a much better chance at living if I know all the factors stacked against me.
“The Undertaking is a tournament that happens between all the academies in the realm. It’s a deadly game that happens every five years.”
“Oh.” I relax a little, since I’ll probably be dead before that happens.
Ziv lowers his chin and levels me with a glare as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “The next competition is in fourteen months. That’s why I’m training you.”