"Callah's really pretty," I mumbled. "And she doesn't think I'm dumb."
That made a man at the side laugh. A few more in the crowd behind me chuckled as well, but not as obviously. I could feel my face heating up, but I wouldn't back down now. This was my one and only chance. If they refused me...
"Tell me, Mr. Warren," Reynold Saunders drawled. "Are you willing to join the hunters in order to prove yourself?"
"Yes, sir!" I said quickly. "I'd be happy to, sir. I wanted to be a hunter when I was a boy, but I didn't make it. I got put with the gatherers instead." And I smiled. A big one. "You'd let me be a hunter too?"
A few of the Elders nodded, showing their agreement, but I'd already set the hook. By saying "too," I'd put it in their minds that they would let me court Callah. A sacrifice for a reward. It made sense, and all I needed was for them to agree to it.
Surprisingly, it was Mr. Myers who leaned forward. "Then you should report to Mr. Peterson for a team assignment, Mr. Warren. Now when does Miss Atwood turn?"
"November," I said. "She'll be twenty early in the month."
"Then you still have time to persuade her," Mr. Myers assured me. "The Council gives you permission to try. We will have you added to her list." He lifted a hand. "And Mr. Galloway? It looks like there is a spot available with the gatherers now. This means double shifts at this time. Are you still interested?"
"Yes, sir!" Mr. Galloway called from the back of the room.
"Then you should report to the head of the gatherers. Now, do we have anything else?" Silence met the question. "Meeting adjourned!" The gavel cracked on the table again.
I stayed where I was for a moment longer. I had permission to court Callah Atwood. That meant we'd be allowed to walk together without a chaperone. It meant time to talk to her with no ears trying to listen in.
Most importantly, it meant a chance to have an honest conversation about what we both knew, because somewhere out there, the Phoenix was waiting. Unfortunately, so was the Wyvern, and I was now about to become their enemy.
I just hoped we could figure out a way to make all of this work, because the Phoenix wasn't the only woman the Righteous should be afraid of.
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Check out Another Series…
Rise of the Iliri: BloodLust: Book 1 - Chapter 1
Weaving through the large, dark-skinned bodies of the soldiers around her, Sal touched the paper in her pocket like a talisman. It gave her the chance to apply to the Black Blades. They were the best of the best, but the last people she thought would take her seriously. At least they'd given her a chance. Now, she just had to prove that an iliri could be as good as any human. Easier said than done.
Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't see the blue-clad shoulder until it slammed into her, pushing her against a man on her other side. Her head snapped up, craning to see the soldier's face, and a growl almost slipped out. The human's dark eyes glared into her white ones. The scent of his fear was pungent.
"Out of the way, scrubber!" he snapped.
Sal quickly dropped her head, hoping her blue military issue cap would hide her pallid skin, and tried to keep her lips over her sharp teeth. "Sorry, sir."
He grumbled something and kept going. Hiking her pack higher up her shoulder, she did the same, but in the other direction. Humans would never like her. They said iliri were inferior, too aggressive to be trusted. They said her kind were little more than animals yet used iliri for everything they didn't want to do. At least life in the military gave her options – like becoming an elite soldier.
If she could do this, the humans would be saluting her, not shoving her. It was the only way her kind got freedom. For years, she'd been planning for this chance. Now she just had to make sure they took her seriously. She had to be perfect. She needed to prove that being iliri didn't make her worthless.
Beside the main gate, men in black clustered against the wall. Unlike the blue and gold of the common military, their dark uniforms set them apart. That was her destination – not only where they stood, but what they were. The Black Blades were hard and determined, the kind of soldier no one pushed around. To be feared like that was as close to freedom as an iliri could get. Sal lifted her chin and touched the paper, terrified they'd turn her away.
One of them saw her. A lean, lithe man broke from the group, heading in her direction. A glance at his shoulder showed he was an officer, but before she could salute, his hand snapped out, demanding her orders. She passed him the admittance slip, shocked to see how the stark uniform made his skin look almost as pale as hers. The corner of his lip twitched back as his dark blue eyes hit her without blinking.
"Private Salryc Luxx?" His voice was a growl, accented in a way that pleased her ears.
"Yes, sir."
"Ya will be number nine, please place yer belongings there -" He gestured to a row of numbers drawn on the ground. "- an' be at ease. The Lieutenant will be here shortly ta give ya orders."
He smelled so different from most men. There was no fear. Instead, the scent was deep and herbal, natural instead of sweet. She resisted the urge to lean closer when he handed back her papers, but when he bent his fingers to avoid contact, a flare of resentment hit. When she looked back up, his eyes were still waiting.
"Pure iliri?" he asked, his gaze too intense.
