A small giggle escaped me as we returned to our rooms. “What are you going to have us do?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll think of something on the way down.” Grem and Zeec greeted us, tails wagging, at the base of the secret passage. Rokath paused to scratch behind their ears.

I let out a long groan and shouldered past him. “Fuck, I’m going to have to go down all those stairs again.”

“And all the way back up,” Rokath added.

The thought was enough to make me weep.

“Maybe I change my mind,” I said, throwing myself onto one of the couches. Zeec trotted over, nosing my thigh and snuffling under my hand. I threaded my fingers in his soft fur, wishing I could go to sleep in it.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Rokath said, grasping my forearm and hauling me upright again. Fatigue forced every muscle to protest. “You started this. You’re going to be first across the finish line, or else I’m going to make you do it all over again.”

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” I glared at him, shoving loose tendrils of my hair behind my ears.

He leaned in close, stealing the air from my lungs. Then, he pressed a kiss to the underside of my jaw. An arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me against his hard body. “I do. I love punishing you, Assyria. You’ll be too sore and tired for me to fuck you tonight. But I will thoroughly enjoy every minute of it nonetheless.”

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” I rasped out as his tongue trailed to my pulse point. He dragged his sharp teeth over the spot, making more core clench.

“Not in a while,” he replied, retreating and leaving me breathless. The smirk he sported was wicked. “Now, let’s get going.”

Without waiting for a response, he dragged me to my feet. The moment they hit the stone stairs, I groaned again. “Just go ahead and kill me now.”

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34

Rows of torches blazed in the field just beyond the academy’s walls. Kiira and I stood at the head of the priestess-turned-warriors, anxiously awaiting instruction from Rokath and Rapp. The moment Kiira had learned of the new initiation ritual, she wanted to join too. Despite the chilly air, all of us had our sleeves rolled up, revealing the shared ink on our skin.

The males, lingering all around, eyed tattoo after tattoo. Honestly, I was awed by how many had it. How many of us were united in our pain, united in our desire to carve a new path for ourselves.

That, coupled with whatever we were about to do, would cast us in an entirely new light to the soldiers who still believed we were unworthy of a place in the army.

I hoped.

Excited whispers abounded at my back. I glanced over my shoulder, surveying the gathered units. The creeping twilight made it difficult to distinguish individual figures. Olet and a few of the other officers had disappeared into the hills beyond a short time before, and with the fading light, they were impossible to see now.

Rokath finally banged on a metal shield, drawing everyone’s attention. He and Rapp entered into the firelight, the red glow highlighting his hard-set jaw. “We have decided everyone will participate in this initiation, given this will be what everyone does for years to come. After all, we are all equals now.”

“So what are we doing then?” I called out, a sense of giddiness overtaking me.

“It will consist of three trials,” Rapp announced, leaning on a wooden post for support. “First, a blood offering to the Fates. The competition rests in how far you are willing to go. There are limits of course.”

“Second,” Rokath growled, drawing everyone’s attention. “You’ll be tied in groups of three and you will face a series of obstacles. You must not break your thread.”

“And third,” Rapp jumped back in, “You’ll leap from the front tower without your wings. A pool of shadows will wait for you. If you require someone to assist your fall because you don’t call on your magic in time, you’ll have to do it again.”

They seemed like fair, balanced trials with a hint of danger. I elbowed Kiira in the side, and she shot me an excited smile. I glanced behind me at the other females, who all seemed just as ready to prove themselves.

“The trials will also take place in the dark to further prove yourselves. You’ll have to rely less on your senses and more on your instincts. That is what will save you during battle,” Rokath said, adding a sobering reminder of why we were all really here.

Some of the excitement died down, but energy still thrummed among the gathered units.

“Should your bloodletting be insufficient, should your thread break, or should you hesitate to leap, you will be deemed unworthy,” Rokath warned, the gravel in his tone grating the air.

My stomach knotted. We had to do this. All of us. I glanced behind me, grateful when the sentiment was etched into the female’s faces.

Rokath set the shield to the side and drew a dagger from his belt. “The time has come for you to make your offering to the Fates. The challenge is this: you must cut yourself in such a way that you can fill a chalice to the brim without severing any essential veins or muscles. Additionally, you only have one attempt to make a cut. Should you heal before you can produce enough blood, you will be deemed unworthy. With our limited time to organize the activity, your non-dominant hand will suffice. Fail to fill it completely, and you will also be deemed unworthy.”

Turning my arms over, I tried to gauge how exactly I was supposed to make that work. I could cut with my left hand, but I didn’t trust myself not to err in my path doing so. That was meant to be part of the challenge, knowing Rokath.

He and Rapp split up, each taking a faction of the army to review. Rokath approached Kiira and me, hands flattening behind his lower back as he settled into a commanding stance. “You may begin.”

“Oh this will be easy,” Kiira said, drawing a dagger for herself. Shadows gripped the hilt as she held out her arm. The sharp tip pressed into the skin of her forearm, and then the tendrils dragged the blade backward, toward her elbow. When a deep gash appeared, she cupped her hand beneath the flow. In seconds, she had plenty to fill her palm. “For the Reaper, whose eye will pass over us,” she prayed, loud enough that all could hear.

“You may pass on to the second trial,” Rokath pronounced, and behind us, Maariya and Izzenna squealed. Kiira dumped her blood onto the ground and advanced past him.

“Next!” He turned his attention to me, and I drew my blade.

“You can do this,” he encouraged down our mental connection.

“I know I can,” I quipped back, calling on my own shadow power. “Again, I don’t know why you doubt me.”

“I never have, little imposter.” Amusement glittered in his burgundy eyes as he watched me repeat Kiira’s process, albeit a bit more clumsily. My dagger ended up in the grass as I clasped my arm, filling my palm with crimson. Ten seconds passed, and then, my hand was full. I turned it over, displaying the blood pooled there. “For the Giver, who blessed me with rare magic and an even rarer bond.”

The response to my declaration was nothing short of thunderous. I grinned widely up at my mate as he passed me along to the next trial. Bending down to grab my blade, I swept by Rokath, joining Kiira on the other side. We cheered on every female, and not a single one failed the task. We even finished before the males reached a similar number in their ranks.

Then, we joined Rapp’s group and encouraged the rest. By the time darkness engulfed Fured, everyone had completed the task and the Fates had been thoroughly fed.

More torches ignited, and many carried them as they moved about, guiding the path for others so they didn’t tumble over a rock hidden among the yellowed grass.