Claimed

Present

ISLA

The rain was coming down in sheets on the tarmac, turning my gear into a heavy, soaking mess. But I didn't care. This was my last fight, and I couldn't afford to lose it.

"Is that all you got, little bird?" Oris grunted.

The man was a mountain and the only one I needed to get past. He was a wall of muscle and bad intentions that they had set on me for my final "evaluation." He was a head taller than me and built like a fridge. Everyone else would’ve been shitting themselves; they were too scared of Oris, but I just tightened my grip on my daggers.

Black blades seem like obsidian, but I had no clue. One month ago it was delivered to me, and all the note said was that it was a gift for your last exam. I knew he sent it.

"Shut up and move, Oris," I said; my voice sounded different, sharper.

He lunged for me. For a big guy, he moved like a snake; he was fast. I dropped low, the wet concrete scraping my knees, and felt the wind of his fist over my head. If that had connected, my face would’ve been smeared across the tarmac.

I didn't give him a chance to reset. I spun around, the left blade singing through the air. I caught him just above the wrist, a quick, shallow bite. Just a reminder that I was there. This wasn't a fight to the death; it was enough to prove I could, and anyone could. 

He roared, swinging a massive leg at my ribs. I took the hit, the air left my lungs in a sharp wheeze, and I tumbled across the ground. I tasted copper, blood.

Get up. I could always hear his voice in the back of my head. Even when he wasn't speaking, he was there.

I looked up through my soaked hair. There he was, my savior, Nilokai Ferro.

He was standing near the hangar, completely still. He didn't even have an umbrella; he didn't need one. The rain seemed to avoid him out of sheer respect. He was older now, different from the boy who I had been sold to; his eyes could freeze a heart mid-beat. He was just watching us.

Bow to me. Obey me. That’s what his eyes said, even from fifty feet away.

Oris was coming at me again, thinking he had me because I was down. Big mistake.

I waited until he was a step away, then I drove my heels into the tarmac and launched. I didn't go for his chest; too much muscle, and that was a death kill. I went for his joints. I moved around him, a blur of wet leather and steel. I sliced the back of his knee, then the meat of his shoulder.

He swung wildly, but I was a ghost. 

Finally, I saw the opening. He overextended with a right hook that left his ribs wide open. I didn't stab him, but I hammered the pommel of my dagger right into his temple, and he crumbled. Oris hit the ground with a thud that I felt in my teeth.

I heard the yelling and cheering from the rest of the graduates and the coaches.

I stood there, chest heaving, rain washing the blood off my blades. I didn't look at anyone. I heard the thud of boots against the wet concrete. He walked toward me. He was huge, towering over me as he stopped. The scent of him, expensive wood and something cold, cut through the smell of jet fuel and rain.

He reached out, his thumb catching my chin and forcing me to look up. My neck craned back. God, he was tall.

"Let's go," he said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble. 

I didn't blink. "Okay," I said with a whisper.

His grip tightened just a fraction, possessive and heavy. His eyes raked over my face.

He turned around and walked away without waiting for an answer. He knew I’d follow him; I always would.

I sheathed my daggers and stepped over Oris's body. I followed him back through the high steel gates that had the training center secluded from the rest of the academy compound. I walked quietly behind him as we made our way to the dorms. He stood in the lobby along with his security details. 

“Go retrieve your belongings; you’re wet. Change your clothes,” he said in that cold, impatient voice. I simply nodded and headed back to the dorms. The place I called home for five years. I walked up the stairs and went to my room. When I walked in, Mara was standing there.

“Looks like you got your ass beat,” she said with a smirk. I didn't answer. 

This was an academy; you learned etiquette, you earned a degree, whatever you wanted, and you were taught to be domestic. I had sailed through all my courses. I had a bachelor's and master's in business. However, no other student of the academy knew what was beyond those steel gates; they tried guessing but could never figure it out. It was guarded so they couldn't sneak in. I was the only female allowed to walk in.

“Bitch, I'm talking to you,” she said, pushing my shoulder. I turned slowly and looked at her. I unsheathed one of the daggers and looked at it, then at her.

“I can end you with one flick of my wrist. I don't even need a dagger to do it. You are still on academy grounds, so I can’t touch you, but you better pray you never run into me out there because I’ll kill you,” I said softly, and I saw her eyes go wide. She scrambled out of the room. I had already packed because I knew he would come. I had no idea what would happen now. I looked around the room for a few minutes, then walked out.

When I got back to the lobby, he was speaking to the director. I stood to the side; when he saw me, he motioned for me to go over, so I did. 

“Ms. Rhodes, here are your certificates. Congratulations. Mr. Ferro, I will take your leave,” Director Kasim said.

After he left, Nikolia looked at me; I could never bring myself to look at him. “Let’s go,” he said, placing his hands in the small of my back and leading me out. He opened the car door for me, and I got in. He got in beside me, and we left.

“Five years,” he said quietly, but I didn't answer. 

“Who was she?” he asked.

“Mara Andrews, Socialite,” I replied, and he nodded.

Jules drove through Velisari; I don't know where we were going. After fifteen minutes the cars drove into a building that looked like a hospital, but I couldn't be too sure. When the cars stopped, he got out and came around and opened the door for me and led me to the elevator.