Page 17 of Slayer

The sight that greets me stops me in my tracks. Zorren’s place is a mess. He always keeps this place organized. But now, papers are scattered across the floor, the desk, the bed, like someone’s been rifling through his things.

Unease bites deep into my gut. A chair scrapes as he spins toward me, his eyes widening the moment they land on mine. “Zorren,” I say quietly, keeping my voice steady despite the tension curling in my chest. “What happened here?”

He stands, walking slowly over to me, closing the space between us and stopping only a couple of feet away. “You know… a lot of people ask me to join them,” he starts, his tone too casual for my liking. Then he hesitates, drawing a breath. “The Slayers Academy wants me.” My heart stops. Silas is playing his games, but this is one he won’t win.

My eyes narrow. “When?” The words come out clipped and sharp.

“A month ago. The same slayer who approached me then came up to me after a fight last night. He offered me a spot training with the new recruits.”

My gaze drops to the cut on his face. “Is that why your face is all fucked?”

He shakes his head. “No. That was a fight. Took on someone bigger.” A slow, cocky smile spreads across his face. “I won.”

Despite myself, a short laugh escapes. “I don’t doubt that.” The warmth lasts seconds before dissolving. “You’re not actually considering it, are you?”

I can’t stand the thought of this way of life for him. With Silas at the helm, the Slayers Academy would break him. The things he’d see and the things he’d have to do are far worse than what happens to him in the Ring. His background in fighting makes him a perfect fit for the Academy. At his young age, he’s already a legend. Unease rakes through me. Silas has been planning this thing involving me for over a month.

I cross the room and lower myself into the chair by the small fireplace, its heat barely reaching my legs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t think it’s what I want. But they keep trying. Saying I’d be their best, that I’d get the top jobs. And I need the money. Look at this place.” One sweep of his arm takes in the entirety of the cramped space, the warped floorboards, the single chair, the rusted window that serves as a door. He isn’t wrong. He deserves so much better.

“Come sit.” The bed is right in front of me, and he listens without a word, lowering himself onto the edge. He avoids my eyes. “Do you remember the day we met?” I ask. His shoulders stiffen. It’s a sore subject for both of us.

“Yes.” His short response tells me he doesn’t want to relive the horror he witnessed then. The horror that I was.

“Do you remember what I did? To all of them? All twelve.” The words scrape out of my throat like they’ve been rusting there for years. A knot tightens until I can barely swallow. I hate dragging that memory into the light. The blood, the screams, the way I’d been so… gone. Hollow. A creature wearing my skin. All of my humanity just absent, not a single shred of it left.

“I do.” Tears well in his golden-brown eyes, catching the glow of the fire. He keeps his gaze fixed on the flames. One blink and they’ll spill—tears born from a memory of me.

“I did all of that because I was tricked,” I say quietly. “You know this. But it’s important you hear it again, differently this time.”

His head turns slowly toward me, eyes locking onto mine. A single tear slides down his cheek. “Why?” His voice cracks. “What’s different?”

“The ones who tricked me into thinking my targets deserved death,” I say, voice low, “are the same people you’re thinking about working for. The same person who handed you the parchment last night.” His jaw slackens, disbelief flickering across his face.

“They are not good people, love. They kill innocents. They kill young and old. And sometimes they kill just for fun. What they did to me—” I swallow hard, bile creeping up my throat. “They did it for the thrill. To see how far I would go. They used me as the weapon they’d built. Stripped me of my humanity. But when I saw you…” My voice threatens to break. “I felt something for the first time in a very long time.”

I remember his young, innocent eyes gleaming up at me. Blood all over him. It was the moment I found myself again. Zorren saved my life then, so I returned the favor and saved his.

He looks down at his hands, fidgeting with the gold rings I’d bought him after his first real win in the Ring. “You’re incredible, Zorren. You can do so many things. But joining the Slayers Academy should not be one of them, at least for right now. Fighting is much different than killing. The man in charge of the Academy is vile. I can train you, just as we’ve been doing.”

I move toward him slowly, reading his body language and kneeling in front of him. “I came from the Slayers Academy,” I say, my voice rough. “I was molded. Tortured. Abused. Tormented. Suffocated. They tried to make me someone who would kill for them without hesitation. They tried to strip me of who I am.” I touch my fingers lightly to the center of his chest. “Here. This is what they’ll take from you first. And that man you met officially last night, he’s the most vile man alive.”

He meets my gaze. “I know it’s hard to choose a path. To decide the life you want. But that’s not your path. Your heart's too big for them. You’re fortunate you get to choose your own path. Mine was chosen for me from the moment I was born.” I rise, turning to the rusted window I’d climbed through, looking at the ocean in the distance. The sight of her makes my heart ache.

“I know,” Zorren says. “I knew you came from them. I haven’t ever seen anyone move like that in my life, not since that day. I always wanted to be just like you… without the killing part.” My heart warms. Just like me. Zorren, who is as close to a child as I’ll ever have, made me believe we aren’t all completely lost. Between the wars we fight openly and the ones rising beneath the tides, it’s easy to believe there’s no humanity left to save.

“You don’t want to be anything like me,” I say, my back to him, palm against the window frame. My voice drops to nearly a whisper. “Please, Zorren, don’t go near them. Don’t even let their shadow touch you. If you ever care about one thing I say, care about this. For me. Stay the hell away from that man.” I look back over my shoulder, meeting his eyes. His gaze lingers on mine, and I study him, needing to know if my words landed. I can’t lose him to them.

“I won’t. I promise.” Zorren says the words I need to hear. “Where are you going?”

A slow smile curves across my lips. “I have some royals to take care of. I’ll be gone for a little while. Stay safe. Please.” I shove through the window and slip out, leaving as silently as I came in and landing on the cobblestone below. I glance up to see him watching me, peering out the window. He gives a single nod before closing it.

My gods, I hope the boy never sets foot in that academy, whether as a student or as a prisoner.

Chapter nine

Crimson Talons

I return to the little house, hidden far from wandering eyes. Today it feels like my sanctuary, my refuge, the one place I can be what I truly am. I stand outside, looking over the horizon at the endless sea.