—OFFICIAL NOTICE FROM COMMANDANT PANCHEK TO GENERAL SORRENGAIL

CHAPTER TEN

I stare in shock for the length of a heartbeat as the first-year drops Nadine’s body to the ground. It falls with a sickening thud, her head twisted at an unnatural angle.

She’s dead.

No. Not again.

“Nadine!” Rhiannon yells, rushing to kneel at her side.

“Nadine?” the first-year asks, his thick eyebrows knitting into one.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Emetterio barks.

“No one interferes,” I demand, and two of my daggers are in hand before I even realize I’ve reached for them.

The giant jerks his gaze from Nadine’s body to my daggers, to my hair.

“I’m Violet Sorrengail.” My heart pounds, but no one else will die in my name. Using a pinch grip, I don’t wait for his response, flinging both daggers. But he’s fast for someone his size and throws up his arms—where both my blades sink to the hilt.

Damn it.

“Violet!” Andarna shouts.

“Sleep!” I slam my shields up to block everything—everyone out. Xaden’s gone. Protecting me is what killed Liam.

It doesn’t matter why this guy is trying to kill me right now. Either I’m strong enough to survive or I’m not.

The first-year rips the bloodied daggers out of his forearms in quick succession with an angry grunt, letting them clatter to the ground. His mistake. He might be almost a foot taller, but he’ll need those blades if he wants to kill me. His build, though…that’s going to be hard to overcome.

Stop going for bigger moves that expose you. Xaden’s words from last year ring in my head as if he is standing right beside me. I have to use what I have— my speed—to my advantage.

I charge toward him at a run, and he swings meaty fists at my head, but I drop to my knees before they can make contact. Ignoring the shattering pain in my legs from impact, I use my momentum to slide by, clipping the tendons alongside his knee as I pass.

He yells and falls forward like a fucking tree, slamming into the floor.

“Violet!” Dain shouts from somewhere behind me.

I scramble to my feet and turn back to the giant, who has already flipped himself onto his back as if impervious to pain, but he can’t stand with what I’ve done to him. He can, however, reach for one of the daggers he dropped and throw it at me.

Which he does.

“Shit!” I spin sideways to avoid my own blade, and he kicks out with the leg I didn’t slice.

His boot catches me behind my thigh.

The blow cuts my feet out from under me, and all I see is ceiling as I fall back, smashing my hip with the full force of my weight. Pain blinds me for a heartbeat when my head smacks against the floor, white-hot and so sharp my ears ring. But at least I haven’t stabbed myself with my blades. One is still in my hand, but my eyes blur and tell me it’s really two.

The first-year grabs hold of my right thigh and pulls, dragging me with the distinct squeaking sound of leather against the shiny floor. If I put my dagger through his hand, I’ll strike my own muscle.

So I swipe out at his arm instead, my reach only catching him with a cut across the forearm. My heart launches into my throat as people around me yell my name, but they can’t interfere. I’m a second-year, and this asshole isn’t in my squad.

His grip secure, he drags me feetfirst toward him, his puddled blood soaking the back of my neck and wetting my hair.

If I don’t get free, I’m dead.

I bring up my left leg and kick as soon as I’m close enough, catching him in the jaw, but he doesn’t let go. Tenacious bastard.

A crunch sounds with my next kick, breaking his nose. Blood flies, but he shakes it off, lurching upward and rolling onto me, pinning me to the floor with his incomprehensible weight.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I swing out with my knife, but he catches my right hand, pinning my wrist to the ground. Then he wraps his other hand around my throat and squeezes.

“Fucking die, already,” he seethes, his voice blending into the ringing in my ears as he lowers his face to mine.

There’s no air as his grip tightens on my windpipe.

“Secrets die with the people who keep them,” he whispers, bringing his nose an inch from mine. His eyes are light brown but rimmed in red as though he’s on some kind of drug.

Aetos.

Fear floods my mind, breaking past my shields, but it’s not mine.

I can’t focus on Tairn’s fear. That way lies shock and death.

And I’m not about to die under some no-name first-year.

My vision tunnels as I grab one of the daggers sheathed along my ribs with my free left hand, draw quickly, and plunge the blade into the giant’s back, angling right where Xaden taught me. His kidney. Once. Twice. Thrice. I lose count as I stab over and over and over, until the grip on my throat releases, until the first-year sags on top of me.

He’s dead weight.

My lungs fight to expand as I put the last of my strength into shoving him off of me. He’s heavier than an ox, but I manage to push him sideways enough to slide out from under him.

Air—beautiful, precious air—fills my chest, and I gasp for it, breathing past the fire in my throat, and stare up at the beams of the ceiling. Pain. My entire body is nothing but pain.

“Violet?” Dain’s voice shakes as he crouches beside me. “Are you all right?”

Secrets die with the people who keep them.

No, I’m not all right. His father just tried to have me assassinated.

I force myself to the familiar headspace beyond the pain and roll to my hands and knees. Nausea sweeps through me in waves, and I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth until I can push it back down.

“Say something,” Dain begs in a frantic whisper.