Page 36 of Bound to Three Fae Beasts

“Of course not. But you don’t learn to swim by being thrown into a sea at full storm. First, you need to get the knowledge and muscle memory in place,” I said, holding out my hand. “Give me the knife and we’ll try it again.”

She handed the knife back. We ran the sequence another few times before I was satisfied with her form, and I moved to another technique. Azriel put her all into learning, taking direction with minimal snarky comments. Perhaps she realized that fighting me at every turn would only harm her in the long run.

After two hours, I was satisfied with her progress and called for a break. I grabbed some water and debated how much longer the mentoring session should go. I still had homework to complete that was due tomorrow.

Ah, well. We didn’t have any physical classes tomorrow. I could afford to stay up later than usual.

Azriel pulled a handkerchief from her pack and started to wipe down her body. The sweat shimmered beneath the lights, giving her flushed cheeks a healthy glow. Sweat made her top stick to her chest, emphasizing the shape of it.

“Have you had any hint of your beast yet?” I asked casually, averting my eyes.

“None of your business.”

I stretched my arms over my head, testing my muscles. They were pleasantly warm from our exertion, and I stripped off my own outer shirt. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Azriel shot me a poisonous look, but her gaze quickly slipped to my exposed biceps. I flexed them just to see how she would react. Her cheeks reddened and her glare intensified, but still remained locked on my body for a beat too long before she tore her eyes away. She gulped down another swallow of water and shook her head.

“I wouldn’t tell you either way, so assume at your own risk,” she said.

“You’re half-fae. How likely is it that you’ll get a beast?” I probed. Had the faculty told her anything about her chances here? I couldn’t tell if she had no aura or just a weak one. It seemed so strange and impossible that she’d been brought here at all.

Azriel marched back to the center of the fighting mats and took up a fighting stance again. “And how did you find out I’m half-fae in the first place, huh?”

I joined her on the mats, but waited for her to make the first move. I kept my body open and relaxed, seemingly in a vulnerable state. Her weakness when it came to attacks was thinking that she had openings when she didn’t.

It seemed she’d learned that, too, because she didn’t attack right away.

“I’m waiting,” she said.

“For what?”

“An answer.”

I debated playing dumb, but I wasn’t in the mood for it. Life here was stressful enough. Out there, with everyone constantly watching me, I had to be on my guard at all times. But this girl, she wasn’t from any of the courts. She was unremarkable in so many ways, and that was what drew me to her. Her ambitions were limited to staying alive. She wasn’t looking for weapons to use against me once we graduated. She wasn’t a threat to me or my family.

Likely, she would be dead by the end of the year. And in the decades to come, I’d forget all about her. That’s the way it was with the fae. Once I graduated and took on my full responsibilities as heir, I wouldn’t have time to think about the nobody from my first year at the Academy.

Azriel snorted, her impatience starting to leak through. She feinted a punch at my face, which I sidestepped easily.

“Flora had Savannah steal your records for her,” I finally said. “She’s good at getting in and out of places unnoticed. I took a look.”

“My records?” Azriel repeated, her eyes widening.

I lifted one brow and nodded. “That surprises you?”

Her cheeks darkened. “I didn’t think I was so interesting that you’d want my records. Oh, this is Lotmas’s fault again, isn’t it? Because he made you my mentor.”

“I wanted to know more about my mentee and whether you were something important.” I sent an experimental punch toward her cheek, and she twisted out of the way. I followed up with another strike, and this one she parried.

“Must have confused you to find I was half-fae. Hardly worth all the fuss,” she said.

“More surprising was that you apparently were raised in the human world by a fae mother who didn’t tell you anything about our world.”

She stumbled, corrected, and struck my ribs. The blow sent the air out of my lungs. I gasped, blocking her follow-ups. I’d struck a nerve, bringing up her mother. It was unsurprising. Her mother likely faced stiff penalties for choosing to raise her child in the human world. Azriel didn’t act like someone in mourning, though, so it was unlikely the woman who was Abigail Jones had been executed for the crime.

Or, if she had, it was unlikely Azriel knew about it yet.

“What makes you think my mother didn’t teach me anything?” she bluffed.