by Sadie Moss
The illusion dragon comes at me again—it’s much smaller than a real dragon, but it’s still fucking deadly—and I have to dodge out of the way, pulling myself up short so I don’t slip out of the ring. As I dart under another blast of flame and duck a swinging fist, I glance over at the other circles. Yup. Sure enough, nobody’s dealing with anything as strong or dangerous as I am. All of the contestants have opponents on the ground and in the air, but the ones in the air don’t seem to be doing much but circling threateningly. The dragon over my head, on the other hand, is going after me like I stole his lunch money. And I swear my blows have almost no impact on the illusions I’m up against, as if they’ve been magically enhanced.
I grit my teeth. I’m not going down without a fight, and if those mages are sabotaging me like I think they are, I’m sure as fuck not going to go out without giving it literally everything I’ve got.
I land another blow and dodge quickly, but a blast of fire catches me on the shoulder, drawing a yelp of pain. One of the big bruisers charges for me just as the dragon pounces. I duck out of his way, and try to pivot to avoid the dragon, but I’m too damn slow.
The massive illusion slams into me from behind, its sharply taloned feet pinning me to the fucking dirt.
No!
I grunt and snarl, trying to wriggle out from under the pin. But I just can’t manage it.
From somewhere above me, a buzzer rings, and a second later, the weight holding me down vanishes. I roll over onto my back to see that the three boxer dudes are gone too. Groaning, I haul my aching body up from the ground, frustration making my blood boil.
I suppose I should be proud of myself for lasting as long as I did when someone was making it harder for me than for everyone else—and given that one of those two mages we eavesdropped on was from the school of illusion magic, it makes sense he’d be able to sabotage this challenge for me.
But fuck if I’m not pissed as all hell. I would’ve won that thing if it’d been fair. I just know it. Combat is my favorite way to use magic, and the thing I’m best in.
Someone’s gonna pay for this.
The student from Syren is declared the winner, which only makes me more furious. After the results are announced and the spectators start to clear out, I’m ready to storm right into Hardwick’s office and tell him in no uncertain terms just what kind of shady shit some of the other schools are up to.
In fact, I almost march off to do that before Asher stops me and insists I get someone to look at my burned shoulder.
I’m not the only contestant who’s sporting an injury, but mine are by far the worst. My wrist hurts suspiciously, like I sprained it, my shoulder’s burnt, I’ve got scraped knees and shallow claw marks on my back from where the dragon nicked me, and my eye is swelling up from a punch I took from one of the boxers.
“You look badass,” Asher promises me.
Uh huh. Sure.
By the time the nurses take care of my injuries, which are light enough that they’ll heal by the time we get to the next trial, I’ve calmed down somewhat. Which I think was Asher’s plan.
I can’t just go busting into Hardwick’s office, as much as I want to. I have no evidence of the sabotage, just my own suspicions and what I saw happening to me compared to what was happening to everyone else—and that’s just circumstantial at best. I’d look like a sore loser, and like hell will I have it getting out that the Unpredictable contestant can’t handle losing.
Since it’s too late to go to Hardwick, the only other option is to keep pushing myself and make sure I don’t lose the next competition.
In the days after the combat trial, I throw myself even harder into my training and preparation. I can tell everyone’s a little worried about how focused I am—even Kendal.
Not that she’d ever say anything to me about it. She may have fallen in with a group of pushy mean girls, but Kendal’s timid as a mouse. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of her family. When parents pressure you to be a certain way, either you become exactly that way to an extreme or you swing the other way, and Kendal, I think, swung the other way. She’s so non-competitive that she’s scared of even upsetting someone in a discussion.
Fun, how parents mess us up, right?
The guys try to get me to eat regularly and get plenty of sleep, and I know that technically I do, but it never feels like enough. My brain’s constantly rushing, trying to figure out what could be thrown at me next and how to overcome it.
Two weeks fly by faster than I can believe, and the weather is warmer by the time the fourth Trial arrives. Sun shines down brightly as the seven other contestants and I head out to the quad in tense silence.
Despite being a ball of nerves and stress, I’ve managed to learn and remember all their names—Jack, Ryan, Leah, Julia, Nicholas, Eden, and Zachary. I’m oddly proud of myself for that, especially considering they only come to our school for the few days surrounding each trial, and the whole event is usually such a whirlwind that I barely get to talk to them.
I try to focus on all the positive things Cam and Asher said this morning as they gave me a little pep talk, but as soon as Hardwick begins describing the challenge, my heart sinks.
It’s an obstacle course.
Under normal circumstances, I could totally handle this. There are plenty of non-magical ways to get around obstacles, even if the obstacles themselves are magic. Just like the escape room.
But with someone sabotaging me… it gives them too many damn opportunities to interfere.
This isn’t going to go well.
The course starts in the quad, but goes beyond that into the larger campus too. Hardwick explains that we’ll all start at the same point and have to race, using our magic, strength, and wiles, to the finish line. I glance over into the stands, my gaze landing on the two mages. They’re not standing together, but I see them share a look that makes my stomach twist.
Hardwick’s booming voice almost makes me jump. “Begin!”
And it’s on.
There’s no doubt in my mind now, as I swing from rope to rope, jump over obstacles, crawl under wire, and avoid mud pits, that I’m being sabotaged. Something large and slimy rears out of the mud pit and grabs me, and I have to use my sonic boom to get away. I don’t see that happen with any of the other contestants.
My spider climb comes in pretty damn handy, but spikes emerge from one wall, the goalposts keep moving, and as I push endlessly forward, I feel like I’m in a fight for my life.
Those mages are really so determined to see me lose they don’t care if I die in the process.
Maybe that would scare someone else—and maybe it should scare me, but it doesn’t. It just pisses me the fuck off.
I push myself even harder, running faster, throwing my sonic boom right and left. I don’t fucking care if I’m devastating the obstacle course or destroying school property, so long as it keeps everything at bay and I get to that damn finish line first. I’m going to win this thing.
Finally, the finish line comes into sight. I grin to myself, even though it makes my jaw hurt—I hurt all over, actually—and put on an extra burst of speed. I can see other contestants around me, and if I don’t give it my all right now, I won’t win. I’ll make it across the finish line, but I won’t win, and I have to come in first. After two losses in a row, I have to. If only I had a little more speed…
Wait.
Who says my sonic boom only has to be thrown to the front?
I concentrate… feel it in my fingertips, my lungs, my heart…
Then I throw my hands out behind me and unleash a sonic boom low to the ground. The force of it propels me forward, and I fly over the finish line right before Ryan, the water elementalist contestant.
I land in a complete heap, hitting the ground hard and rolling, bruising myself all over—as if I weren’t banged up enough already from the damn obstacle course—but oh, it is so worth it to see the looks on the faces of those two mages when I stumble to my feet and Hardwi
ck announces I won.
So fucking worth it.
After Provost Johnson hands out the medals, I limp over to the infirmary and get bandaged up. Once the medical staff have healed the worst of my wounds and bandaged the others, I head for the door, expecting Asher to pick me up like last time—but instead, Dmitri barges into the building.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls, dragging me down a side hallway to an empty room. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself.”
My sonic boom tends to do just as much damage to me as the person I fling it at, seeing as it sends me flying as well unless I manage to do a less powerful version of it or ground myself against the blowback—which I’m still working on. Once I get stronger with my magic, I should be able to send it off and not feel such a strong kickback, but for now, it’s just something I have to deal with.
And yeah, maybe it was a risk after I’d already gotten some chunks taken out of me during the obstacle course. But so what? Faint heart never won unfair competition.
Dmitri’s hand on my wrist is gentle, but I know I won’t get out of that hold unless I’m prepared to flip him over my head like we’re wrestling.
“You have to be more fucking careful!” he whispers harshly.
“I have to win.”
His face hardens. “You can’t win if you’re dead.”
My gaze darts to the door, but the corridor outside is empty. Good. We’re alone, which means I don’t have to pretend to be polite. I snatch my arm back the moment his grip loosens. “You’re not my goddamn keeper, Dima. It’s my choice, and I can do whatever I want.”
I turn to go find the others—or maybe storm out is a more accurate description—but before I can make it three feet, Dmitri’s in front of me.
I freeze. Then I slowly look back over my shoulder.
Dmitri’s standing there too.
My jaw clenches. Dmitri has the power to phase in and out of solidity, but he also has the power to duplicate himself. His magic dampening cuff must’ve been taken off by Roman. There’s no other way he’d be able to do magic right now, and it hits me that Roman must’ve taken all the guys’ cuffs off so they could protect me in case something happened during the trial.
It’s… it’s very sweet, honestly. But it’s also frustrating as hell, because now Dmitri’s double is blocking the door.
“Get out of my way,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“You have to be more careful,” the double tells me. I literally can’t tell the difference between the double and the real Dmitri, but I nickname this one Evil Dmitri in my head.
Squaring my shoulders, I move to push past him, but he sidesteps, not letting me pass. My breathing picks up, my heart pounding hard in my chest with anger and… something else.
“This isn’t me ordering you like I’m in charge,” Dmitri snaps from behind me, walking up to me. I can feel the heat of him against my back as his voice lowers to a rough murmur. “This is me pointing out that you’re being goddamn reckless and not taking care of yourself. I can’t stand by while you fling yourself face first into danger just to win a stupid competition.”
I don’t move. I’m staring into Evil Dmitri’s eyes as I answer the real Dmitri, and my voice is as low as his. “If you were in my place, you wouldn’t think it was stupid. You’d do anything to win.”
“Yeah, I know. We’re really fucking similar, Princess. I’m not an idiot. I’ve noticed.”
His hands hover near my hips, but he doesn’t grab me. His body is so close to mine, his presence so overwhelming, that it feels like he’s enveloping me, even though there’s not a single place where we’re actually touching.
Dmitri’s double narrows his eyes, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “It’s probably why you’re so good at pressing my buttons.”
“Why do you even care?” I snap, no longer sure if I’m talking to Evil Dmitri or real Dmitri. Both, I guess, since they’re both technically the same infuriating man.
Evil Dmitri looks pained for a second, and I can only imagine the real Dmitri behind me is making the same face.
“You really haven’t figured it out, have you?” the double asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard any Dmitri sound.
My heart lurches, and I swallow hard, suddenly not sure I can handle where this conversation is going.
I have a sudden strong premonition that he’s about to admit how he feels about me, followed by an equally strong realization that it might make my heart stop to hear it.
What exists between me and Dmitri is fiery and explosive, and I’m pretty sure beneath all of our headbutting and traded barbs, there’s some kind of true caring. We wouldn’t still be in each other’s lives so completely if there wasn’t—he’s not just hanging out with me because he’s friends with Asher and Cam. That can’t be all it is.
But the arguing? The poking at each other? The sparring and taunting? I know how to handle those things. They make me feel like I’m on solid ground, like it’s safe to care about Dmitri from behind my wall of snark.
Because if the walls come down… and he’s still looking at me like his double is looking at me right now?
I don’t know if my heart can take it.
I’ll fall in love with him, I know I will, and I’m so scared of that.
But I want it too.
The three of us stand close together, our quiet breathing the only sound in the small room. Cloves and honey surround me from all sides, and I want to wrap myself up in that scent.
“Dmitri,” I whisper, putting my hands on his double’s chest, because I can’t touch the man himself right now. Not without losing my last shred of self-control. “You and me. We’re… I—”
“Elliot?”
Cam’s voice comes from the doorway, and I jump about a foot in the air. The two Dmitris and I spring apart like we just got busted plotting to overthrow the government or something.
My pulse pounds hard in my ears as I look toward the open door and see Cam, Asher, and Roman all gathered there.
Ah, crap.
How much did they all see?
Chapter 21
My cheeks flame, and I suddenly find the floor tiles supremely fascinating.
It’s stupid to worry about being caught doing… I don’t even know what… with Dmitri. We all have an agreement, and whether or not anything ever actually happens between me and the moody, dark-haired mage, I know all the guys consider him part of that agreement. So it’s not like I’m worried about being caught cheating; if I kissed Dmitri, it wouldn’t be cheating.
I think it’s more that I’m embarrassed about being caught in such a vulnerable state. I’ve been getting better about opening up with all the men, but it still makes my stomach twist uncomfortably to be so exposed in front of them.
Dmitri obviously feels the same way, because he won’t look at any of them either. His double gives me one last loaded look before dissolving and sliding back into the real Dmitri.
There’s a moment of silence as the other guys absorb the weird vibe in the room, but mercifully, they don’t say anything about it.
“Are you all right, Reckless? Goddamn it. That was definitely sabotage.” Roman shakes his head, stepping through the doorway and striding toward me, and his words snap my mind back into focus.
Right. Trials. Conspiracy. Sabotage.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I couldn’t see exactly what all the other contestants faced along the course, but from the glimpses I got, it didn’t look as bad as what I was up against.”
“It wasn’t,” he says grimly, grasping my shoulders as his gaze roams over me, scanning my injuries. The medical staff are great, and they helped with the worst of it, but I know I still look pretty banged up.
“I still managed to win though,” I point out, stepping out of his hold and straightening my spine. I don’t want the guys to be any more concerned about me than they already are.
“Hell, yeah, you did.” Cam flashes a grin, holding up his hand for a hig
h-five.
I slap his palm, grinning right back.
“Not to take away from your accomplishment, Elle,” Asher says quietly, “but that event was pretty dangerous. And the more difficult opponents you faced in the combat simulation were dangerous too. You’re getting badly injured.”
“If this keeps up, you could end up dead,” Roman finishes.
Dmitri crosses his arms over his chest. The softness has faded from his face, and now he has an I told you so gleam in his dark eyes. I ignore it. “What do you think I should do then?”
“Drop out,” all four men chorus.
My jaw clenches, and I shake my head stubbornly. “No can do. I’m not dropping this.”
“Reckless—” Roman begins, but I don’t let him finish. My body aches, and I’m so tired I just want to sleep for days, but I can’t just give up.
“Is that seriously what you want me to do? Back down? Let everyone think the Unpredictable couldn’t hack it? Make the school look bad? I’m not a coward. I’m going to represent the Griffin Academy, and I’m going to do the best I can at it.”
“I thought you didn’t care about this place.” Dmitri arches a brow.
“I don’t,” I reply. “Well… didn’t, anyway.”
At some point, I started caring. A lot. I want this school to do well.
The men all look at each other then back at me. I fold my arms. “I’m not giving in on this. I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I’m not starting now. And if it does kill me, then you can use it as proof I was sabotaged and can arrest those assholes.”
I don’t want to die, I really don’t. But I don’t think those two mages—and their buddy, whoever he is—are actively trying to kill me. That’s not to say it couldn’t happen by accident, but this isn’t a guaranteed suicide mission. And besides, this is bigger than just me, and it feels important. This academy is a haven to those who still aren’t completely accepted anywhere else; I won’t let some angry, frightened bigots tear it down.
So I’ll keep fighting, no matter what happens.