Chapter Ten
Bechora
My lungs burned as I raced across campus to the training pitch.
I’d lost track of time in the library, reading through the handful of books the librarian helped me find about mates.
I’d managed to read through two of them fully, not finding much about demon mates, before the clock above the librarian’s desk chimed out, causing me to realize I was going to be late to combat class if I didn’t hurry.
I skidded to a stop at the end of the line of students just as the professor strolled onto the field.
“Greetings. I am Professor Rumlock, and this is combat training.” The tall, muscular fae spoke, his voice booming across the pitch.
“Our first lesson will be spent working to gauge your current combat abilities. Once you’ve all changed into your training gear, we will go through a series of warm-up exercises, and then I will pair you off to assess your skills. ”
Nerves fluttered in my stomach as his eyes moved along the line of students, the white scar cutting across his left eye down the side of his face, giving him a severe look.
Something about the male screamed violence, and I worried I would be found lacking.
Sure, I’d lived on the streets, fighting for literal scraps to survive, but I’d never had any formal training.
“The male’s locker room is to the left, and the female’s to the right. You will find lockers with your name on them containing your gear. You have fifteen minutes to change and be back on the pitch ready to go,” Rumlock barked out.
We scattered like mice, hurrying to our designated locker rooms. It was almost shocking how normal the girls looked.
There were rows of lockers with benches in front of them and shower stalls tucked away in the far corner.
The familiarity of it was comforting as I scanned the labeled lockers, finding mine.
Tucked inside were a pair of black, form-fitting pants littered with various weapon sheaths, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a vest. I changed as quickly as I could, trying not to marvel at how sturdy the material felt under my fingers, before putting on the black tennis shoes provided for me and making my way back to the training ground.
In the short span of time since we’d left the field to change, it had been transformed.
In place of the green field were various training mats and weapons racks.
Professor Rumlock stood in front of the nearest mat; his arms crossed over his chest as he watched students file out of the locker rooms. His hard expression was the only thing that kept me from gawking at the new setup.
After several more minutes, Professor Rumlock dropped his arms to his side and began calling out orders, organizing us into neat rows.
Once he was satisfied with our formation, he began a series of exercises meant to get our heart rate up and muscles warm.
The warm-up alone worked muscles I didn’t realize I even had, which was saying something considering all the ways I’d worked my body on stage at the club.
I was starting to think the combat professor just enjoyed torturing us with the insanity he called a warm-up when he finally started splitting us into pairs.
There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the way the professor paired students off as I watched girls be paired with boys and take their place on the mats.
I felt a brief moment of relief when I was partnered with another female—at least until she gave me a predatory grin once we faced each other across our assigned mat.
“You will be allowed to use your abilities when you spar. This will help you hone them as tools in your arsenal. The pitch is spelled against lethal actions, so this is the one place on the grounds you will be able to use your magic to its full extent. As I’m sure many of you have noticed by now, the rest of the campus prevents some of the more harmful magic from being used outside of specific spaces.
That is not the case in this class. Many of you will be carried off the mats today and taken to the infirmary. ”
My heart dropped into my stomach as Professor Rumlock continued his speech.
I had no idea how to access my magic. Everything I’d managed so far was an accident while I was sleeping.
Looking across the mat to find my sparring partner still wearing a feral grin, I knew I was going to have to fight dirty—and even then, I would probably still be one of the students carted off to the infirmary.
“You may begin!” Rumlock’s voice boomed across the pitch.
My partner immediately shifted into a bear without a care for her training uniform.
“Oh shit,” I squeaked as she swiped a large paw at me.
I barely managed to dodge the swipe, her claws snagging on one of the weapon slots on my right thigh and tearing it open. She lumbered backward before letting out a roar and charging me. I dove to the mat, avoiding the impact and finding myself under her furry belly.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I gritted out, shaking my hands in the hopes that something would happen.
The bear chuffed almost like she was laughing at my inability to defend myself against her and swiped a paw under her body where I lay on my back. I screamed as her claws tore through my vest and shirt, digging deep into my shoulder.
“How the fuck am I supposed to fight a bear?” I whimpered, grabbing my wounded arm and kicking my feet at her belly as hard as I could.
Somehow, I managed to get out from under her and scramble to my feet at the far side of the mat.
She paced on her side, her lips pulled back in what I could only describe as a twisted, taunting grin.
My eyes roamed over her massive form, looking for any weak points, but I didn’t know anything about bears to know what I should be looking for.
The girl stopped pacing, and I could tell she was about to charge when a bolt of lightning struck her in the back, crashing from the sky with a loud crack.
My mouth fell open in awe as the scent of burnt hair and flesh overtook my senses.
“Sorry!” a curvy blonde called from a few mats away. “Sorry, I wasn’t aiming there!”
“Ms. Forrester!” Professor Rumlock’s voice called out. “Aim for your own sparring partner!”
“Yes, sir! Sorry!” the girl squeaked out.
My stomach roiled in relief as I eyed the now unconscious bear splayed out on the opposite side of my mat. I kept my hand pressed against my injured shoulder, blood pouring through my fingers as I waited for the professor to make his way to me.
“Mr. Dreadgrave,” he barked out, catching the attention of a lean-built male with brunette hair twisted into a bun at the back of his head. “If you would please take Ms. Tarrene and Ms. Knight to the infirmary.”
“Yes, sir,” the guy called out, moving from his mat to mine so fast that he was a blur.
“And Gabriel, I feel compelled to remind you that, though Ms. Knight may be bleeding, she is not your thrall. Fangs to yourself,” Professor Rumlock said sternly.
Gabriel chuckled under his breath as he lifted the unconscious bear over his shoulder with ease. He jerked his head for me to follow and headed off the pitch. I kept some distance between us, the professor’s words still ringing in my ears.
“You should pick up the pace,” Gabriel called back to me, not bothering to take his eyes off the direction he was walking. “I don’t need eyes to know you’ve lost a lot of blood. I can smell it.”
“You… you can smell it?” I squeaked out, picking up my pace.
“Well, yeah. I’m a vampire. Of course I can smell it.” He scoffed.
“And it doesn’t, like, send you into a frenzy?”
Gabriel stopped walking and turned to face me with a scowl, shifting the bear’s weight on his shoulder as he did.
“Do you always ask such invasive and ridiculous questions? No, I do not go into a frenzy. My kind is taught from birth to control our urges so that we’re prepared when we ascend.
” He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer.
“You should learn to watch what you say before you end up in more trouble than you can handle.”
“Hey, I can handle myself just fine, asshole.” I huffed.
Gabriel tilted his head back and laughed. “Right, and that pathetic display on the training pitch was just to get Esmara to let her guard down. You’d have totally had her if Kiri didn’t have shit aim.”
My face flushed with embarrassment at his sarcastic words. “It’s not my fault the professor paired me up with a freaking bear. Who stands a chance against that?”
“Everyone except you, clearly.” Gabriel chuckled.
“It didn’t slip my notice that you didn’t use your ability to protect yourself.
That tells me two things, Ms. Knight”—his tone grew menacing, and he crowded into my space—“you’re a dud, and you’re the weakest supernatural currently at the Academy.
How the Academy’s magic made the mistake of enrolling someone like you is beyond me, because it’s only a matter of time before you get yourself killed.
You’d do well to remember that the next time you think of challenging me. ”
Gabriel stepped back and turned around, stalking off in the direction we were headed.
I sucked in a relieved breath, my hands shaking.
Gabriel Dreadgrave’s behavior may have screamed bully, but he was right.
I needed to be more careful, at least until I could defend myself.
Keeping a few yards between us, I followed him quietly the rest of the way to the infirmary.
I didn’t relax again until he’d finished telling the healers what happened with the bear and left.
“Selir’s sake, what is Rumlock thinking pairing a First Year mage with a Second Year shifter, and on the first day of class, too?” tutted the gray-haired, matronly woman inspecting my shoulder.
Her fingers prodded the gaping wounds, and I winced just before soft green light glowed in her palms.
“Will she be alright?” I asked, curious about the condition of my sparring partner.
“She’ll be fine. Nothing a few days here won’t cure. The spell around the training pitch prevented serious internal damage. Just some bad burns to salve and heal, don’t you worry,” the healer replied as she continued to work.
The skin at the edges of my shoulder wound began to itch furiously, and the matron slapped my other hand away as I tried to scratch.
I could almost swear I felt my flesh knitting itself back together, but aside from the itching, there wasn’t any pain.
After a few more minutes of her green glowing palms and feeling like a colony of ants lived under my skin, the sensations stopped.
“There you are, dear. Good as new.” She smiled, patting my now unblemished shoulder. “Don’t fret about combat training either, dear. I’ll be having a word with Dean Femirea about Rumlock’s extreme pairings. Won’t be having my infirmary full up from his sessions again this year.”
Though it was clear the woman meant to comfort me, her words caused me to pale.
I couldn’t help wondering how many students Professor Rumlock’s teaching methods sent to the infirmary, for her to find it problematic.
Before I could ask, she shooed me off the exam table and motioned for me to be on my way, handing me my uniform and messenger bag.
I had no idea how either arrived at the infirmary, since I hadn’t brought them with me or seen anyone else enter after I had, but I was relieved I didn’t have to trek back across campus to retrieve them.
My stomach growled loudly as I made my way from the building.
A quick glance at the sky was enough to tell me it was close to dinner time.
It didn’t take mastering telling time by the stars to know that the sun being close to the horizon meant it was well into the evening.
Digging my campus map out of my bag, I studied it for a second to get my bearings and then headed toward the dining hall.
I was halfway there, according to the magical dotted path that appeared, when a surly voice boomed across the open quad.
“Ms. Knight, you wouldn’t be trying to skip our meeting now, would you?” Professor Thrackborne scowled, his arms crossed as he stared me down.