Page 30 of Interion

“Not to you.”

I stared at him, and he stared right back.

“And what are you to me?”

His gaze didn't waver for a single second. My toes curled inside my shoes, and I felt like ice was rattling around in my stomach.

“Your trainer,” he replied flatly.

“Okay, general.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, and I tried to hide a small smile. Getting under his skin was proving surprisingly satisfying. Zion spun a knife in his hands and focused on the target in front of us.

“Watching your attempts, I noticed that when you throw, you focus more on where you want to hit than on your technique. Your brain's gotten used to grabbing the handle and throwing on autopilot. So, to force yourself to pay attention, I suggest holding it by the blade.” Zion threw the knife the way he'd described. It hit dead center of the inner circle. “Try it this way.”

He disappeared into my shadow and reappeared near the target, pulling out the knife, then materialized back at my side. That shadow thing was the strangest power I'd ever seen in Interion, and I was dying to ask how it worked, but I held back.

“I didn't know you could do it that way.” I held the knife by the blade, took a deep breath, and focused on the movement, not the target. When I threw, it flew faster and hit the second circle, sticking in the blue margin. “Gods of the divine, did you see that?!”

Hiro and Aish passed by and laughed when they saw me so excited about something so trivial. I grabbed another knife, took a breath, and prepared myself. When I threw, I hit the target again. A warm glow of satisfaction spread through my chest. Zion looked like he wanted to smile but kept his mouth in a straight line, shoving his hands in his pockets for some reason and looking away.

“I need to go now, but feel free to finish on your own.”

I nodded and watched as the general walked away, leaving me with the knives. The lights came on around the campus, marking 7 p.m., and the last traces of sunlight were already fading from the horizon. I made a few more throws and missed most of them. But after twenty minutes, I managed to hit the day's goal: six in the outer circle and four in the middle. Even though it had taken a while and ninety percent of my throws had missed, it was a good start. The other instructor had never required a minimum number of hits, so I'd never worried much—I just threw the knives without any specific goal.

Zion wasn't the type to let anything slip past him. I'd noticed during training that a shadow or two would slither among us whenever he wasn't around, watching what he couldn't see himself. It was a little creepy, but no one said anything—we weren't stupid enough for that, not even the quartet.

After organizing my bay, I left the shooting range and headed to the locker room. I walked with my eyes scanning my surroundings. In moments like these, alone at the academy, fear crept up my spine—cold and sticky, like a snake about to strike. I swallowed hard, eyeing every shadow and every place where someone could hide.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the chill spreading down my spine and urging me to get out of there. I knew I should stop cowering around the other students, but my fear of the fae—specifically the men—overrode everything else. It left me tense, nervous, and paranoid, and I hated feeling that way.

I hurried to my locker and opened the magic-sealed door. I grabbed my bag and training backpack, then closed it silently. With my nerves on edge, I rushed out. Only when I stepped inside the house did I finally let myself breathe.

Chapter 9

I woke with a start to the sound of a cell phone ringing. I fumbled for mine, but as soon as I grabbed it, I realized it wasn't the one buzzing. Then I heard Zion's voice in the room next door.

The screen showed 4 a.m., and I turned over grumbling. Kiara was sleeping pressed against me, hogging the entire bed and leaving me with just the edge. I pushed her paws to make room and she pushed back, nearly shoving me off the mattress. I settled where I could and pulled the blanket over my head, annoyed at being woken at this hour.

“Anyone injured?” Zion asked. I heard blankets rustling and his heavy footsteps moving across the room. “Request reinforcements from the 7th and 8th squads, since they're closer, but also alert the others to be on standby.”

My brain was trying to shut down, but it was hard to ignore his deep, clear voice carrying through the wall.

“I'll arrive around noon. See you then.”

I heard a few more sounds from the room next door, then silence. I struggled to fall back asleep, but the conversation kept my mind racing—knowing there were injured people somewhere put me on edge. A long time passed before I finally drifted off.

When I woke up, there was no note or message about his absence. Not that this was strange—after all, I never got any explanation for Zion's disappearances—but I knew soldiers typically took about a week to return from a mission, which meant seven days alone.

That morning, I went to the hospital worried about what I'd heard the general say on the phone. Apparently some kind of confrontation had occurred for Zion to ask about injuries. I couldn't stop thinking about how badly hurt those people were, who they were, and what could have happened. Had they found another breeding camp, or was it just a clash with enemy squads?

I spent the entire morning with my head full of questions and fears, moving in and out of various recovery rooms. Adele didn't show up at the hospital because she was “on her cycle.” That meant I had to cover her work on top of my own. The cycle was the fae equivalent of human menstruation. But unlike human periods, fae cycles started between ages 21 and 25 and only happened once a year, lasting two days. Reports said the pain was so intense that women typically isolated themselves and spent the entire time in deep agony.

I didn't know what going through a cycle was like because I hadn't had one yet, but in college, during gynecology class, Professor Selene had discussed it and explained that it was painful, bloody, and wreaked havoc on a woman's hormones. My mother was dead and couldn't explain it to me firsthand or show me what to expect—something that was still taboo in fae society—so I only knew the theory.

It was already noon. I'd barely finished my shift at the hospital, and I couldn't shake the dread of having to go to the military academy. It was always the same thing: torture sessions and beatings that ended with me on the floor, covered in bruises and broken bones.

I sighed, and my mind immediately started scheming ways to skip the academy—if Zion wasn't in the city, I wouldn't get in trouble for not showing up. With that in mind, before leaving, I snuck into Ambrose's office and forged his signature on a note stating I needed to miss the academy for the rest of the week to take a hospital exam.